A Renewed Nostalgia for Nail Polish
by Night Nymph
Summary: There are many well-planned and inspiring stories about what happens to Spike after his sacrifice in "Chosen." This is not one of those stories. Set post season 7 of BTVS and post season 4 of "Angel." Now Complete.
1. The Horrors of Yogurt and Virgins

**Title:** A Renewed Nostalgia for Nail Polish

**Author:** Night Nymph

**Rating:** PG 13 for now

**Disclaimers:** I own nothing here. Hopefully Joss won't mind me playing a bit.

**Spoilers:** Everything up to "Chosen" on BTVS and everything up until "Home" (season 4 finale) on Angel. Slight spoilers for season 5 Angel, but not really.

**Distribution:** You want this? Really? Well go ahead and take it, just let me know where it's going.

**Dedication:** This one is for mr. monkeybottoms. Her brilliant stories inspired me to try my hand at comedy. I apologize to her in advance for what I'll likely do with that inspiration.

**Summary:** There are many, well planned and inspiring stories about what happens to Spike after his sacrifice at the end of "Chosen". This isn't one of those stories. An answer to my own challenge at All About Spike.

**Chapter 1:** The Horrors of Yogurt and Virgins

As Spike returned to his senses he noticed two things: one, that he was in the kitchen instead of in his bed in the suites of Wolfram and Hart, and two, that he had a vile, lumpy substance in his mouth. "Uck," he exclaimed, spitting the contents onto the table. He wiped his mouth with his hand, dropping the spoon it held in the process. The utensil landed on the kitchen table with a tinny clank and splattered more of the loathsome substance on the highly lacquered surface. "Bloody hell!" he swore.

To add insult to injury, Angel smirked at him from near the microwave where he was waiting for his blood to heat. "You're cleaning that up," he said, looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh and thereby ruin his appearance of moral superiority.

Spike wanted to smack him. Instead, eyeing the container of fat free yogurt he still held in his right hand, he complained "How could anyone want to eat this stuff?"

"Don't ask me. You're the one eating it," Angel replied as he removed his heated mug.

The smell of warm blood was tantalizing, but the lingering taste of yogurt just made Spike's stomach do flip flops. "It wasn't bloody me. I don't even remember coming down here." _Why the hell did Buffy have to like yogurt of all things?_ Spike thought in disgust.

"Aww what's the matter, Spikey? Not coming to terms with your feminine side?"

Spike let out a soft growl of frustration_._ He opened his mouth, wanting to say something so badly._ You're just jealous because I'm Buffy's true soul mate now. Go on mate, say it. Wipe that smirk right off his face. Crush his spirit, come on. Ah, hell. He sniffed instead and forced a smile. "It's fine. It's just temporary. Willow knows now, and Buffy will be coming here soon to get it back. As soon as they have a break." He nodded. "I mean it's just a small piece of her. Insignificant really. And I don't always black out when it manifests itself. I can handle it until they get here."_

"I'm sure you can," Angel said, throwing a dish rag in his direction and indicating the splattered yogurt with a movement of his hand. He looked smug, like he knew some colossal joke Spike didn't. It had been happening a lot recently. Spike hated that.

Angel finished off his blood and rinsed his mug before putting it in the sink. The infuriating smile still on his face, he paused in the doorway on his way out. "By the way, I love the bathrobe."

Spike looked down in horror at the fluffy pink robe that barely covered him mid thigh, further balking at the embroidered flower he discovered on the right breast. He couldn't imagine anything much worse, unless… He so hoped that wasn't a nightgown he felt under the robe.

Angel was still chuckling as he turned. Spike was sure he never saw the yogurt container coming as he watched it hit his grandsire on the side of his head with a satisfying splat. At least he still had good aim.

As a horrified Angel rushed towards the washroom to get the yogurt out of his hair, Spike thought with amusement, _If_ the bad guys ever learned to concentrate on messing up his poofy hair, this town might actually be theirs_. Looking again at himself and shaking his head, he rose from the table. He would've liked to stay around and gloat, but his present attire didn't lend itself to the moment. Best to sneak back to his room and change before someone else saw him like this. He sighed as he skulked down the hallway, wondering how it had all come to this._

_Two months earlier_

Lilah hated this room. White, white, and more white not only equaled boring, somehow, to her, it equaled creepy as well. It made her think of purity and virgins, and well, what was more disturbing than virgins? They weren't a major component in so many evil spells for nothing now, were they? _Nope, not many things creepier than that, she reasoned.  __Except maybe a nun, her brain supplied, unhelpfully reminding her of her days in parochial school. Shuddering, she sighed and started tapping her pen against her cheek. What was taking so long? She'd set up all the goody-goodies at Wolfram and Hart, made sure Angel was the boss, then given him the necklace meant for a champion. Hint, hint. So now he would use it, save the day, but lose his soul in the "cleansing" process, because hey, saving the world had to cost something, right? Then he would materialize back here as Angelus, and voila, law firm headed by an evil vampire with untold resources at his fangtips. And if he got out of line too much, hell, they could find that pesky soul somewhere, or at least that was all he had to believe anyway. What? She was supposed to tell the truth? She was evil after all._

Energy started humming about the room, making the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand at attention and the building shake ever so slightly. _About time, she thought as she lowered the hand with her pen to the clipboard she held, ready to document the moment for the bosses. Despite the build-up of energy, there was little fanfare that followed: just a flash of light and a naked body falling onto the floor, the figure landing curled-up and facing away from her._

Affecting boredom, Lilah made note of the time and the condition of the arrival as he stirred. Body intact – check. Arms and legs functional - check. Wait a minute. She looked again as the figure groaned and slowly sat up. She noted the lean, muscular physique which in itself wouldn't be a problem were it not for the more than six inches difference in height than she expected and the bleached blond hair.

He, and yes it was definitely a he, turned to face her, his intense blue eyes registering confusion. Then he realized he was naked.

"Bloody hell!" he swore.

Lilah couldn't have agreed more.

*********

Angel sighed as the building shook. Yes, things had been going smoothly for all of what, a day since he'd returned from Sunnydale? He'd been busy behind the scenes, gathering resources quietly just in case Buffy needed his second front. And it had been going well. There had been no signs of armagedon until now when the building was shaking, subtly, but he could feel it nonetheless. Maybe this was it after all. Maybe Evil was finally going to win. He pulled back the curtains, bracing himself for the sight of a coming disaster.

Angel looked down on the street below, his enhanced eyesight allowing him to see a car upside down, several more a tangled wreck, ambulances and fire trucks everywhere, and people milling about in confusion. Nope, nothing unusual there. _They really should put up a turn lane at that intersection_, he thought. And it didn't explain the building shaking. He guessed he better get the gang together and figure out what was coming.

*********

_Okay_, Spike thought as he looked around the room, _didn't think I'd end up anywhere white. I don't see any angels flitting about with harps though._ His gaze stopped on the woman with the clip board staring at him, the confusion that crossed her face likely matching his own. The fleeting thought crossed his mind that maybe someone made a mistake. _That would be classic: me getting into heaven on a technicality_. He smiled, putting some charm behind it.

The woman sighed. "Well, I can't imagine the bosses will be too happy about this."

She didn't sound like an angel. In fact if he was any judge of character, she seemed a little on the evil side, but not your average run of the mill evil: more of a refined type. In a previous life that seemed forever ago, he might have made a woman like this his queen. Now though, Spike knew better. He had the distinct feeling this woman could be the end of him if he didn't play his cards right. He also noticed something else about her; she was dead. Okay, now he was starting to get worried.

Circling him slowly in her expensive pumps and fitted suit, she looked him over like he was a scientific specimen. "Hmm, not bad, but who the hell are you?"

He didn't move. If she wanted to get a good look at his wrinklies and such, fine with him. He was right proud of his physique. "Who wants to know?" he snarked, before he mentally groaned. He probably shouldn't piss off the dead lady.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "**That** you don't need to know right now. In fact, let's just say it's better that you don't know. Now who are you and why are you here instead of who we were expecting?"

"Well, who were you expecting? Maybe that'll help."

She sighed again, and plastered on a smile that seemed to say "if you don't answer my questions soon, I'll rip your friggin head off."

Spike was actually impressed, but it wasn't in his nature to just give in. "Aw come on, just give me that one."

"Fine. If it will hurry this along, I'll give you this one. Angelus. We were expecting Angelus."

_Angelus, not Angel_. It was then that Spike realized something. He was different. William was gone. They'd taken his soul. His demon face came forth as he surged to his feet and closed the gap between them. In the next second he had her by the throat. "What did you wankers do to me? Where's my soul?"

She looked down at his hand clasping her throat as if it were a minor inconvenience. "Please be careful. That's not exactly the sturdiest part of my body right now, and I'm already dead, so threatening to kill me won't do you much good."

"But I'll enjoy tearing you apart," he said.

"Then you can enjoy eternity starving in this empty room."

"Fine." He let her go in momentary defeat. "What do you want?"

The corners of her mouth turned up perfunctorily, the smile all business. "Let's start with who you are."

"I'm Spike, or at least what's left of me."

"Can't exactly blame me for that. I mean, yes, the amulet did use up your soul to destroy the nasty vamps, but it was your choice to wear it, wasn't it? No one forced you."

"No," he admitted.

"Okay then. It was your fault. Believe me. I'm not happy about this either. I was expecting Angelus. How the hell did you get a soul anyway? No one warned us about this."

He lifted his head and put on a cocky expression. "I won it in a game of poker."

She stared at him, and Spike could tell that she was trying hard to suppress amusement. "And I thought Angelus was funny," she remarked, the only acknowledgment she would give him. She crossed her arms, cradling the clipboard against her chest. "Unfortunately the bosses don't have a sense of humor. Start talking or I leave you here."

"Fine. I went to Africa, went through some trials, and won it fair and square."

"You wanted your soul?" Her usually reserved tone actually held surprise.

"That's what I just told you, isn't it?"

She seemed to blanch a little, if that was even possible. "Oh, shit."

"What?" he asked, trying to quash the alarm rising in him.

"We were expecting someone who wouldn't want their soul…"

His forehead furrowed as he tried to figure out why that was important. It took a moment, butfinally catching on, he said, "Because then you could use returning it as leverage, am I right?"

"Because without said leverage, both our asses could be toast, and I mean that literally." Her eyes showed that she had no doubt in that assessment.

Spike didn't like the sound of that. He never had been fond of toast.

TBC if anyone wants.

Please send feedback. Any kind. If I get good feedback, yay! I'll continue. If I get bad feedback, yay! I already have one story I'm supposed to be finishing and I shouldn't be starting another one. Either way, I win.

Oh and for my readers of "In His Shadow", I'm working on the next chapter – really. I promise. A recent family thing kept me from writing for some time and my dog ate it. Okay one of those is true.


	2. The Horrors of Impasse and Bus Travel

**Author's note:** I apologize for the delay in this chapter. I promise you this story will be continued and finished. It's just that lately real life wasn't providing me with the necessary comic inspiration. Things should be better now, and the delay shouldn't be so long next time. I hope the wait was worth it.

Thank you to all who reviewed and asked so nicely for this story to continue. Here's a nice long chapter for you all. I just hope you don't expect to learn everything just yet. Well, that would be logical wouldn't it, and I never said this story was logical, now did I?

**Summary:** Previously – Spike is having a little memory blackout problem, complete with episodes of unSpike-like behavior. Through flashback we are beginning to learn how and why Spike came to be in this situation. This chapter, the history continues.

**Chapter 2: The Horrors of Impasse and Bus Travel**

Spike stared at the woman in the fitted suit dress, and she stared back. Considering the look of "oh crap" on her face, he was starting to have serious doubts about getting out of this in one piece. Another moment passed uneventfully.

Finally, Spike voiced the first idea that came to him. "Well, we can always keep it to ourselves, pet. Who'd believe a vampire would want a soul anyway?" Okay, even he didn't believe that would work. He never had claimed that his first ideas were good ones.

"You can call me Lilah. And that might have been a passable plan, but they already know."

Spike's brow furrowed. "They weren't aware I had a soul, so how can they know I wanted one?"

"Because you belong to them now. The Senior Partners know everything about those they own. Believe me, I know."

"Had a feeling you weren't quite on Team Good," Spike said.

She laughed lightly. "No, not remotely. And what team are you on, Spike?"

He shrugged. "Not much of a team player. And now… well without the soul, I suppose 'm evil again, but I'd rather help old ladies across the street for all eternity than lift a sodden finger for the ones who made me this way again."

"Even if they made it worth your while?"

Shaking his head, he leveled a determined expression on her. "They could never give me enough. Not in my nature to be in a gilded cage, Lilah."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "And you got that soul then why? I can't think of anything more like a cage for a vampire than that."

Spike smirked. "Different, love. A self-imposed restraint. And only because there was someone worth being restrained for."

"Well, I don't see that someone now." She smiled almost seductively. "Just think of all that warm blood just waiting to be tasted. A few well-chosen victims here and there. The bosses wouldn't mind if you started out slowly."

"Hmm, it always starts out that way, doesn't it? But before you know it, you're bent over the desk and expected to beg for a buggering." He watched her expression change, confirming that his assessment of the situation had been correct. Smirk growing, he started to lace his hands behind his head in triumph, but then thought better of it. He titled his head and sneered instead. "Speaking of which, am I gonna get some clothes anytime soon or what?"

Lilah smirked back at him, her previous ire hidden. "Hmm seems a shame, but…" She reached into her suit jacket and retrieved a small phone and pressed a button on it. "Could we please have some clothes up here?" She snapped it shut and returned it to her pocket. "They'll be here shortly."

"Fine then." He looked at her, trying to gage her mood now. He wasn't able to, but that didn't change his mind. "I'm not gonna do what they want, you know, whatever it is. You can tell them to put me back for all I care."

"One thing you'll learn about the Senior Partners, Spike, is that they don't put anything back once they've taken it. At least not until they're finished with it."

Spike's eyes flashed with anger that he quickly pushed down. Raging at the woman wouldn't do him any good. His instincts told him that he needed to get on her good side. He grinned evilly instead. "Well, guess I'll have to be the cute, little puppy that grows into a hundred pound dog that eats the house and bites you in the arse."

"Something they didn't bargain for?" Lilah asked with amusement.

Smirk still in place, he moved closer to speak in her ear. "Something they'll be begging to give back," he clarified. He backed up, watching her expression turn to one of amused intrigue, and he smiled. Perhaps he might have an ally after all.

*********

Fred smiled nervously, her lab coat engulfing her. Gunn crossed his arms, feigning indifference. Wesley sat quietly, his expression contemplative and concerned. Each one was different, and each one was an important part of his team. They all shared one thing in common at the moment, however; they were looking at him, expecting an answer. Angel wished he had one to give them.

Lorne popped his head in the door, and Angel silently thanked him for the reprieve.

"Hey Angelcakes, do you need me for this meeting? I'm not too helpful on apocalypse fact-finding type ventures."

Angel couldn't help but smile a bit. Lorne's aqua suit was loud even for his wardrobe. The lemon yellow shirt just seemed like overkill. "Got a meeting with a big wig you'd rather not cancel?" he guessed.

"Aw shucks, you got me," Lorne replied. "In my defense, though, I really am not that good with apocalypses. So…" His head suddenly turned. "Hmm, well what have we got coming here? Hey aren't you still dead?"

"Still dead," Lilah replied. "Now why don't you go on ahead to that meeting? I wouldn't want to keep you." She pushed past him into the meeting room and faced the assembled group.

"Lilah," Wesley said with an incline of his head and a face awash with barely suppressed emotions. Angel felt his heart ache for him.

"Wesley," Lilah replied. "More business to attend to," she added, explaining her presence nonchalantly. She looked back to the door as if expecting someone else to be there.

Lorne remained in the doorway, though, titling his head curiously at something in the hall. "Gotta say there, sweet cheeks, even you make that stuffy outfit look good."

"You gonna let me by, or do I have to move you myself?" someone replied testily. "Bad enough I have to go in there at all, never mind get up close and personal with an Abercrombie and Finch catalogue on acid to do it."

Angel knew that voice. And he knew that attitude. If this was the impending disaster, he'd rather have something, no, **anything** else.

"Well, someone sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Lorne remarked.

"You don't know the half of it, you git," Spike replied, growling softly as he pushed by Lorne who, despite Spike's threat, hadn't budged. The vampire gave the demon a subtle shove with his shoulder as he entered the room.

"We have a problem," Lilah announced.

Angel didn't think he'd ever heard such a statement of the obvious.

*********

Something didn't feel right, and it wasn't just that they were in a worn-down motel room somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It was a nagging feeling that something important was happening somewhere: somewhere not here and somewhere that she should be. Buffy looked over at Dawn and smoothed some silken hair away from her sister's face. The feeling left as quickly as it had come, and she decided it must be just everything finally hitting home.

The post avoiding-the-apocalypse euphoria had been very short-lived this time compared to other times, because this victory had cost so much more. Well, she supposed that for those who'd been left, their defeat of Glory hadn't been all that happy either. As she brushed another tear from her cheek, she wondered if they had cried, too. She certainly didn't wish this sadness on them and could no longer blame her friends for bringing her back, for trying to end the hurt.

And what about him? Had he cried when she died? He said he had in that church the day he told her about his soul. And when she'd come back, he'd told her that he relived that night every night until she'd returned, dreaming of how he might have saved her. If she hadn't been so numb then, she might have tried to comfort him. She might have been moved by his confession: one that even coming from a soulless being, had been so filled with emotion. Few others except Angel could make her cry with just his words. The last time had only been a few days ago.

Buffy was suddenly very tired. Carefully lifting the covers, she stretched out on the bed behind Dawn, not even bothering to remove the last few pieces of clothing she had on. She molded herself lightly into her sister's back, taking comfort in the fact that Dawn was still alive. As she waited for sleep to come and her dreams to start, Buffy wondered how she would save Spike tonight.

*********

They all stared at vampire in front of them, trying to assess this new development. Fred looked puzzled. Gunn looked disappointed. Wesley looked like he thought he should recognize the visitor. Lilah looked slightly sheepish. And Spike looked indignant. Angel thought he felt a big, fat headache coming on.

"**You all have a problem?" Spike asked, his arms gesturing emphatically as he started to pace. "What about me? I do the right bloody thing for once. Sacrifice myself for the bloody sake of humanity. Burn up from the inside no less, and what happens? I wake up in a white room with Ms. Corporate Evil, here, completely starkers…" Glancing down at the conservative grey slacks and charcoal button-down shirt he wore, he made a disgusted face. "Not that this is much better, mind you." He looked back up and continued his tirade. "Then I find out some evil powers ****own me, and to top it all off, they took my bleeding soul!"**

His face most closely resembling a look of "duh", Gunn asked, "Um, vampire right? Isn't 'no soul' generally a requirement for you guys?"

Spike gave him an annoyed look. "I had one okay? Not for as long as Brood Boy over there, mind you, but I won mine fair and square."

"You won your soul?" Fred asked. "How?"

"Don't ask," Lilah advised.

"Oh, what's the matter?" he asked Lilah, his voice a purr. "Don't like to hear that your new evil toy got a soul on purpose?"

"Well, actually I though we covered this," Lilah said reasonably. "I think the answer was a definitive 'no.'" She then looked somewhat apologetically at Angel. "I'm not sure what happened. He was actually rather reasonable a moment ago."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Spike tends to be unpredictable like that. Sometimes something just sets him off."

Spike whirled on him. "Sets me off? Yeah, like Angelus was a picture of sanity. Besides this is your fault." He pointed at him. "You should've warned Buffy better that the amulet was evil. What if she'd used it instead?" His tirade abruptly halted as his expression suddenly turned to concern. He almost deflated before their eyes. "Oh God, Buffy. She made it out, right?" He turned panicked eyes on Angel. "She's okay, right?"

Angel's mouth fell open. "You don't know?"

"I was burned to a crisp, you git. I didn't see what happened after that."

Angel felt his chest tighten. "I don't know either, Spike. When we felt the building shake, I was afraid for a moment Buffy had failed to stop the apocolypse."

"We didn't fail," Spike said indignantly, his concern replaced just as quickly by momentary ire. "The Slayer was bloody brilliant, Red did some major mojo, I used the amulet, and we pounded them."

"Then why would you think Buffy didn't make it?" He watched Spike's jaw twitch and his expression shift as if he were trying to decide what to say, how much to reveal. "Tell me the truth, Spike."

Sighing, he closed his eyes. "She wouldn't bloody leave at first." He clenched his teeth for a moment then looked at his hand. "The world was falling in around us, but she stayed. Held my hand. They burst into flames, but still she didn't let go. But I couldn't let her die. Not again. My turn this time." He shook his head as if clearing it, and looked at Angel as he warred with his emotions. "So I yelled at her a little, made her get her ass in gear. But it felt like a pretty big implosion, and I burned up soon after, so I don't know if she made it."

"Oh it was a pretty big implosion," Lilah remarked with a smile. "Took the whole sorry town of Sunnydale with it." She titled her head and quirked her mouth. "But the Slayer and most of her goody-goodies made it out fine."

"How do you know that if you didn't even know it was me who was gonna show up instead of Angel?" Spike asked sarcastically.

Something about that statement nagged at Angel. Was Spike saying that the bosses at Wolfram and Hart meant for him to end up soulless? He made a mental note to have a little chat with Lilah in a bit. Noting how she was purposely avoiding looking in his direction, he had a pretty good idea what the answer was going to be.

"Remember that phone call I got on the way here?" Lilah answered Spike.

The vampire glared at her. "But you let me go on like that anyway."

Lilah shrugged. "I have to amuse myself somehow, and I must admit that for a vampire, you are pretty amusing."

Spike looked about ready to lunge for Lilah, and despite how at the moment Angel might actually enjoy seeing that occur, he decided he better intervene. "Spike, save it."

Spike growled a little and looked defiant, but he stayed put.

"Gee, major issues with that one," Lorne remarked. After looking at his watch, he turned his eyes back to the group. "But my meeting awaits, so if someone would fill me in…"

Spike turned a withering glare on the green demon.

Lorne remained unaffected as he looked back. "Oh, and in her own way, she did mean it, you know?"

"She meant what?" Spike began testily before he abruptly stopped and opened his mouth in shock. "How did you…"

Lorne smiled at him and put a finger to his temple. "I could read it from over here, sweet cheeks. You were wearing it on your sleeve. Can't usually read vampires so well, but you're one odd vamp." Lorne shook his horned head and swept down the hallway whistling.

"Who meant what?" Angel asked.

"I'd settle for knowing what the heck's going on here," Gunn remarked.

Angel barely heard him, he was focused on Spike, watching the smile that had come to his face after Lorne's insight. Spike looked at him now with a smirk even more annoying than usual. "You wouldn't want to know, mate, and I don't feel like sharing. Maybe some other day."

Fred cleared her throat. "So there's no impending disaster, then?"

As Angel glared straight at Spike so his meaning wouldn't be lost on the other vampire, he answered Fred. "Well that depends on your definition of disaster."

*********

"This is a disaster," Buffy whined. She pouted at the map spread across the table in front of them.

"Well, now, it's not all that bad," Giles said, his tone reassuring. "If we go along this road, we should eventually make it back to the main highway in a few hours or so."

"A few hours?" Xander complained. "Haven't the people in middle America heard of alternative routes?"

Stuffing a huge bit of pancake into her mouth, Dawn gave him an amused look. "I believe this is an alternative route."

"I'd classify it more as a path or maybe a trail," Xander quipped. "I've seen construction roads less bumpy."

"Well it started out nicely," Dawn said. "Maybe we just took a wrong turn."

Buffy frowned at the map. "Only one wrong turn? How can one wrong turn get us so very lost?"

"Well, it might help if the map was right side up," Giles advised, turning the map in the correct orientation.

"I think Faith and Robin got off easy," Xander remarked.

Buffy shuddered. "Not in my opinion. I hate hospitals."

"Yeah, well, they'll probably get a nice, fast car once the potential's parents pick them up and Principal Wood gets better. Then they'll travel around a bit before meeting us in Cleveland."

"At the rate we're going they'll beat us there," Dawn said around another mouthful of pancake.

The diner door swung open, the bell above it chiming furiously as Willow rushed in followed closely by Kennedy. "Sorry we're a little late guys. We were kinda tired. Slept in late."

"Mm hmm," Dawn mumbled sarcastically.

Buffy kicked her under the table.

"Ow! Sister abuse."

Buffy ignored her. "Oh good. Willow, can you help us find exactly where we are? You know, a locator spell or something?"

"Oh, for Willow, that should be easy," Kennedy said, looking at Willow with total confidence.

"Um sure," Willow agreed. "Let me see the map." She slid into the plastic covered booth beside Giles and smoothed out the map. Closing her eyes, she chanted a few words then opened them again. A small greenish light appeared momentarily over a point on the map.

Buffy smiled. "Oh, so that's where we… Um Willow…"

"Fire!" Xander yelled as flames started to eat their road map. He dumped his orange juice on the spreading flames.

"Oh wait! Ohh, you should have beat them out," Buffy complained. "Now look at our map. It not only has a huge hole, it's all sticky."

"Sorry," Willow said sheepishly. "Guess I still don't know my own strength."

"I guess we need another map," Giles said with a sigh. "There was a gas station about thirty miles back."

"Bet that hospital's not looking so bad now, huh?" Xander asked.

"Last one in the bus is a rotten egg," Dawn announced as she squirmed her way past Buffy and bounded out of the diner.

Buffy hit her forehead on the table, narrowly missing the spilled orange juice. "This is a disaster," she whined, sadly aware that no one was left to hear her.

*********

Spike hated this. Angel was the last person he wanted to ask for help, but unfortunately, he didn't trust anyone else right now. Besides, perhaps he could manage to get a few amusing digs in at the same time. Angel would still feel obligated to help, that being his gig and all. Personally, he didn't know how Angel could put up with it. Being the hero sure wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Even Angel, however, seemed to have his limits for patience. "Okay, Spike, enough with the pacing. What do you want, and why did you insist on kicking everyone else out and talking only with me of all people?"

"You think I like talking to you about this? I'd rather be with Buffy, thank you very much, but I have this feeling that I'm not going very far away from here. Who are these 'Senior Partners' anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Angel answered. "I only know that they aren't the good guys."

"Yeah, well neither am I anymore apparently," Spike muttered. He stopped mid-pace. "I can't do this!" He didn't even try to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Angel rolled his eyes. "What's the problem now?" he asked as if he thought Spike was being overdramatic.

His eyes narrowed. "I don't have my soul anymore, you Neanderthal. They want me to be Evil. How am I…" He closed his eyes and took a loud breath. The words he uttered were softer than his deep breath would have implied. "Do you know how long it's been?"

"Since what Spike?"

Spike looked at him. "Since I killed someone. Killed a human."

Angel stared at him, his expression suddenly very serious. "How long have you had your soul?"

"Almost a year," Spike replied. "But it's been much longer than that." He pointed to the back of his head. "The Slayer's old boyfriend, Mr. Meat and Potatoes, was part of a government operation. They put a chip in my head. I couldn't bite anyone. If I tried to hurt a human, I'd get a paralyzing electric shock."

"And this kept you from killing people?" Angel asked skeptically. "You didn't get some other vampire to do it?"

"Well, once, but that was Drusilla, and I sent her away, and that was the only time, because Buffy wouldn't have liked that. And before that, well, what would have been the point? When I found out I could kill demons, at least that I could do myself." Spike shook his head. "And when I found out it didn't work on Buffy, it didn't matter, because I didn't want to bite her anyway by then. And then I got the soul…"

"Well shouldn't the chip still work?" Angel asked.

Spike looked down a moment. "Um, it's gone."

Angel sighed. "I should have known. You got it removed."

Spike gave him a dirty look. "No. That was Buffy's decision. I was in no shape to make that particular choice at the time, but hell… How can I restrain myself without it?"

Angel just stared at him. "Seems to me you should be happy it's gone."

"You don't get it, do you?" Spike asked. "She **believes** in me, or at least she did when I got the soul. Hell, even before that, because she said I fought my nature to get it. If I kill someone now…" He turned and punched his fist into the wall.

"She'll blame herself for getting your chip out and having faith in you," Angel finished for him. He almost sounded sympathetic.

Spike looked at his now bleeding hand, his eyes locked on the blood. "But that Little Ms. Evil isn't gonna let up on me, is she? Eventually I'm gonna cave in." He looked up again pleadingly at Angel, warring with himself with equal parts needing his grandsire or wanting to pound him. "Angel, what am I going to do?"

TBC

If chapter 3 doesn't show up in the chapter headings, replace the two in this url with a 3 and hit go – the chapter is there, even if it's not showing on the chapter headings.


	3. The Horrors of Waylaid Plans and Lingeri...

**Author's notes:** Thanks as always for the reviews. This chapter and the next are dedicated to the gang from the Angel speculation thread at forums4fans. Our lively debate on the symbolic meaning behind the occurrences in the final hellmouth scene in Buffy and its impact on Spike's return helped lead to the twisted story you see here. Let's hope that forums4fans will soon be back online.

**Summary:** Previously – Spike learned that he is now the property of Wolfram and Hart's Senior Partners. Angel learned that Spike has returned to existence. Buffy learned the horrors of bus travel and back roads. Spike learned that no longer having the chip might not be such a wonderful thing and asked for Angel's help. This chapter – the history continues.

**Chapter 3: The Horrors of Waylaid Plans and Lingerie**

Spike looked like he genuinely wanted help, but Angel could see other emotions in that steely expression as well. Impatience was one of those, and Angel worried that if he didn't say something soon, Spike would regret asking in the first place and give in to the other predominant emotion on his face at the moment: animosity. For the second time that day, Angel wished he had an answer to give. Instead he decided to stall a bit, hoping to keep Spike from losing his patience.

"It's really that important to you? What Buffy thinks?"

"Hell, yeah," Spike answered. "It's everything." He resumed pacing again. "Her faith in me was what kept me from breaking during those days, hell, **weeks of torture under the First. But I had my soul then, and I doubt I'll be able to get ****that back while they've got me here." His brow furrowed for a moment then he shook his head. "No, wait. Even before that. When we faced Glory." He nodded emphatically. "Her trust in me is what got me to go up against that skanky Hell bitch when I shouldn't have cared a lick. Well, her and Dawn…" He frowned again. "Course I bollixed that up."**

Angel was afraid he'd lose him again, Spike obviously being in one of his wild mood-swing episodes. "But you made up for it this last time, right? You saved the world." Inwardly, he felt a twinge of nausea at having to bring that up.

"Yeah, you're right," Spike said, smiling. "This time I justified her faith in me."

"Well, just remember that," Angel advised. Okay so it was a little lame, and not unlike the advice of one of those self-help gurus, but he was desperate, here. "And don't let Wolfram and Hart tell you otherwise."

"Easy for you to say," Spike grumped. "You still have your soul. I mean what was the first thing you…" He smirked as he corrected himself. "**Angelus wanted to do whenever you flew the coop."**

Angel frowned. That answer was easy: bite someone, kill someone, torture someone. "Okay, I didn't say it was easy."

"Damn right it's not! But if I bite someone that would be totally evil and wrong." He paused a moment. "Then Buffy'd feel she had to kill me, and I couldn't do that to her."

Was it his imagination, or did Spike's voice just change for a moment? He definitely must've been hanging around Buffy too long, because he'd even used one of her expressions there. He seemed normal again now, though. Angel shook his head, trying to refocus. He had to think of something. Then it came to him. "Well, what did you do when you first got the chip? You said that you **couldn't bite anyone. So how'd you deal with it then?"**

"When I first had the chip?"

Angel watched Spike wince a bit, then his face took on that slightly sarcastic look he had while relaying some extremely unpleasant memory. This didn't look as promising as he'd hoped.

"Hmm, well first I nearly starved while the Initiative GI Joes hunted me night and day, then I went crawling to my enemies for help, stayed with Rupert for a while, then I ended up living in Harris' basement, usually tied up no less, unless I was trying to wash his knickers, and by that time I basically decided I'd hit bottom and tried to off myself."

"Xander's basement? Doing his laundry?" Angel asked. He shuddered at the thought.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, and for added fun, the ex-demon girl would come over and discuss their sex life."

Angel's mouth dropped open, and he couldn't help it; he choked back a chuckle.

"It wasn't funny mate," Spike objected, but soon smirked. "Okay yeah, it was funny. But not at the time," he amended emphatically.

Still chuckling a bit, Angel teased, "Look, Spike if you could live through that without killing yourself... What changed your mind anyway?"

"Found out I could kill demons," Spike answered.

The two were silent for a moment then Angel decided that if he didn't have a permanent answer yet, he could at least try a temporary one. "You want to go kill some demons?"

Spike jogged his head a little. "Okay, yeah."

Angel motioned for him to follow to the weapons cabinet.

"But I get that cool battle axe," Spike said.

Angel sighed inwardly. _And why am I doing this again?_

*********

Buffy took one look at the traffic, the big buildings, and the somehow less intense sunshine, and wondered what she'd gotten herself into. It was May and it didn't even feel very warm here. _It's only for a little while_, she told herself. They'd get things scoped out and a headquarters set up near the Hellmouth then she could start again somewhere else. They'd have to move to somewhere permanent a few weeks before the next school year, so Dawn would have a chance to get settled before it started, but… She was getting ahead of herself. They had a few months yet.

She needed to make a plan. They needed a place for potentials to come, or at least a place for them to get information. Faith could have her break for a few weeks, and then she would be here to take over as they'd planned. She could be the main resident Slayer here. Willow could set up a website for girls to get information. She smiled. That was actually a good idea. They'd set up a training program for those who wanted it. Kennedy could be the one to take charge of that. She probably wouldn't mind Faith being the head Slayer until she got experience if she could boss around a lot of new Slayers.

This was going to work. It just had to.

*********

"I'm going to kill him," Lilah said.

Angel smirked. It was about time someone else had to put up with that feeling when it came to Spike. He was still annoyed at getting demon blood and guts all over his leather coat a few days ago, because Spike had had a little too much fun on their demon killing outing. Of course the fact that he was so excited afterwards that he made Angel order pizza with anchovies and listen to his part of the adventure after they got separated during the melee didn't help matters. Not only had he woken up everyone in the place except Lorne, the delay had allowed the demon guts to dry, adding to the cleaning difficulties. Of course Spike had blamed it on shoddy workmanship as his duster had always cleaned up just fine.

Angel hid his smirk and pretended innocence as he looked at Lilah.

"Problems?"

"Oh, I'd say there were a few problems," Lilah said as she plunked down rather inelegantly on a sofa in the common area of the living quarters. She brushed her mussed hair out of her face, clearly exasperated and making no pretense of decorum. "He ate Damien Rutherford," she announced.

He stared at her, waiting for the rest, because he instinctively knew that there was more.

"First he tells me that he's not going to cooperate. That he won't hurt a human, which was annoying enough since, well, that's usually what vampires like to do. Eat people that is. Present company exempted of course."

"Oh, I'd still** like** to eat people. It's the feeling afterwards that makes it lose the appeal," Angel joked, though inside he was a little troubled by the news that Spike had bitten someone: a little troubled, but not much. Damien Rutherford was one of their nastier clients from what he knew of the man.

"So, he resists, and I persuade him a little," Lilah continued.

Angel recognized sugar coating when he heard it. "What did you do?"

"I explained to him why Mr. Rutherford was such an important client, and that we really needed to take care of his enemies and that draining them was a necessary step of that process."

"A word of advice," Angel began. "Spike really doesn't trust magic, and telling him you need blood-drained bodies for a warlock to do black magic with is not a way to persuade him."

"So I discovered," Lilah remarked.

"And I ask again, what did you do? I know there's something you're not telling me."

Lilah smoothed her skirt. "Oh, did I leave out the part about sending him to a nasty dimension where there's nothing to eat and the time goes much quicker than here?"

Angel gave her a murderous look.

"Oh, come on. What did you expect? I figured it'd give him an excuse. I didn't leave him there **that** long. Just long enough to get hungry. Mr. Rutherford is not a patient man."

"Not a very good warlock it seems either if Spike succeeded in killing him."

"Well, why else would he need bodies to do a spell," Lilah answered with a shrug. "And coma is a better description of his condition than dead."

Angel sighed. "Well, I hope you don't expect me to feel sorry for you. In fact, you should be glad I'm not in the mood to make **you** very sorry."

"Hey, I'm just trying to do my job, which I'm beginning to see is going to be more difficult than I thought."

"Welcome to my life," Angel said. "Now, I'd leave if I were you. Before I forget that I'm the good guy here."

Lilah sighed as she stood. "Spike was right. You really are a stick in the mud."

Angel ignored her as she exited. As for Spike, he'd get him back later.

*********

Spike was still hungry. Even after starving in that bloody boring place, well actually bloodlessly boring place was a better description, but even after that, a man the size of Mr. Rutherford should have satisfied him. He was still hungry, however, and strangely, a little guilty. That part he really didn't understand. Not only was the guy evil and quite deserving of being eaten, he was the Big Bad again with no soul and therefore no reason to feel guilty in the first place.

He made his way to the kitchen and immediately went to the refrigerator which he knew had the blood. He drank it cold then scoffed at himself. What was he doing that for: to punish himself? Yanking the refrigerator door back open, he reached for some more blood, intending to heat it this time, but somehow he got distracted by a package in the back. Grabbing it, he read the label: sharp cheddar cheese. That actually sounded good.

He must have dozed off for a moment, because when he came too, he'd eaten three quarters of the cheese, and surprisingly, there wasn't a cracker in sight. Odd, because he somewhat fancied crackers, especially with caviar, but oh well. Giving one last confused look at what remained of the cheese, he shook his head, threw it in the refrigerator, and headed off to his room. He'd deal with Lilah and his Evil Bosses problem tomorrow.

He might even sleep in.

*********

It was a couple days later as Fred frowned at the empty place on the dresser where the nail polish would be. She mostly found it too depressing to spend too much time with Cordelia in her unconscious state, but she'd decided to take the time once a week to give her a manicure and paint her nails. She found it therapeutic to talk with her while she did it. Not that she ever got an answer, but sometimes it was nice just to talk.

After looking a moment, Fred gave up, but she was still troubled. She could have sworn that she'd just bought her a new bottle of passion flower pink. She sure hoped she wasn't showing signs of senility already. Her reputation as an absent-minded-professor type was already a joke amongst some of her lab techs. It was unfair as well. Yes, she sometimes lost her train of thought, but she took impeccable notes, and her paperwork and experiments were always organized. It was only a misplaced bottle of nail polish, nothing to worry about.

Good thing she still had some raspberry red left. She'd hate for Cordelia to have to go with naked nails. She picked up the bottle and the rest of the manicure supplies and went to visit Cordelia.

*********

A few floors up, Spike woke to find himself staring at pink polished nails.  Startled, he didn't even notice the bottle of passion flower pink polish sitting on his nightstand. His first concern was to try and get rid of the stuff. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he could find polish remover, except maybe for Fred. She was a nice enough bird. She'd probably have some that she'd let him borrow.

He got out of bed, dressing himself quickly as he tried to think of a legitimate reason why he might need polish remover besides removing nail polish. Oh, removing ink would be a good excuse. He'd say that he accidentally got marker on something. Brilliant, he decided, but that being out of the way, he had an elevator trip and a hallway walk to contemplate that something definitely seemed to be off about himself lately. These blackouts of his were getting more frequent, he had no idea what was causing them, and well, this renewed interest in nail polish had definitely taken a disturbing turn.

*********

Fred thanked Angel for the allowance of the petty cash. After painting Cordelia's nails, she'd decided she'd go shopping and get her some more polish. While she was out, she might as well pick up some nice clothes so Cordy wouldn't have to lie there in drab hospital gowns all the time. Just because she was in a coma didn't mean she had to look bad. Cordy definitely would've hated that. Fred was sure she could find something that would be stylish, yet still allow the caregivers to do their job.

As she approached her door, she oddly found it open. She could have sworn she closed it, and inwardly, Fred sighed. Maybe early senility was creeping up on her after all. Coming closer, she was relieved to see that she hadn't left it open after all. On the other hand, she was quite surprised as to why her door was open in the first place.

*********

The next time Spike came out of a blackout, he definitely knew something was terribly wrong. It didn't appear to be anything at first. He was simply standing in the middle of his room, but it felt off somehow, strange, like he was standing wrong. As he looked down, he didn't immediately get to the reason why that was so, because his eyes halted on the blue lacy bodice he wore.

"Gah!" he exclaimed. "What the hell is **this?" He didn't expect an answer, but a soft, feminine voice gave him one anyway.**

"What? You don't like it? I kinda thought the blue looked good on you. It brings out the color in your eyes. I mean, sure, the black goes better with the fishnet stockings and the boots but still…"

Spike almost fell down as he caught sight of the thin, dark-haired woman who lounged on his bed observing him: Fred. It was Fred. Obviously helping him dress up in… Yup he **was** wearing fishnet stockings with the blue bodice and… lacy blue panties! Okay, this must be a dream. Wasn't he supposed to be getting nail polish remover? But it sure felt real, right down to his black, high-heeled, ankle boots. Well, those were kinda cute, now that he looked at them. Wait a minute. What the hell was he thinking? His gaze moved back to Fred, and despite the situation, he couldn't stop a smirk. He should've pegged her as a little bit kinky.

"Um, pet, how long have we been at this?" he asked, more calmly than he felt.

Fred smiled and pushed herself up a bit, curling her legs beneath her. "A little over a half-hour I think. It took me a while to come up with stuff that would fit you, so you had to wait."

Okay, he had to get information so he could do damage control. "Where did you get this stuff again?" he asked, barely keeping the trepidation out of his voice. He hoped no one else knew about this, and for some odd reason, an image of Wesley flashed unbidden through his mind. He almost shuddered.

"Oh, that was easy," Fred answered in a bubbly voice. "I just slipped it in with a shopping order for Cordelia. I even have some petty cash left, so I can make a longer trip later. And don't worry. I won't tell."

"Um, thanks."

"Yeah, this'll be our little secret. Charles would never understand the appeal." She shook her head softly, her face lowered somewhat shyly.

Spike thought of the muscular, dark skinned man, and wondered for a moment. _Nah, she's probably right. "Probably not, love, but maybe a little later on you might suggest…"_

Fred giggled. "Charles in this? He's a little large. Not that you aren't muscular yourself, because… well, definitely muscles there."

Her head was tilting, taking him in, and Spike had the urge to show off for her for a moment until he gathered his wits about him. Somehow despite the situation, she still managed to look like a librarian. Maybe a slightly naughty one, but…

"I mean, you might almost be able to fit in my larger nightie, whereas Charles…" She shook her head again.

Spike tried to process this information and surmised he must have been trying on her nightgown or at least holding it up to himself, and that's how she found out about this. He decided to take a guess here. "Um, hope I didn't rip your um… delicates."

"Nah," Fred said with a dismissive wave and a smile. "I got to you before you did any major damage. No harm done, and besides, this has been pretty fun." She practically bounced with energy.

"Um yeah, but my feet are getting a little tired. Heels and all," he explained, picking up a booted foot to illustrate.

"Oh, right, sure, but before you go, you did promise." She held out what most closely resembled a lacy, red and black, one-piece number right out of the movie _Moulin Rogue. She pouted adorably and fastened a doe-eyed, pleading gaze on him._

_No, this is bloody insane! I am not going to put that on!_ Spike thought. _Whatever this is, it stops now. I don't care if she gets her feelings hurt. Or how cute she looks._

"I'll close my eyes again," she encouraged. "And I won't peek… well, not much anyway." She blushed slightly, making her look even more adorable.

Okay, he was not getting flattered by this. He was **not**. _Ah, hell_. He smirked sexily at her despite himself. "I know you like that Charles guy, and I love Buffy, but… You're gonna think of me in that for a little bit aren't you?"

Fred nodded, holding it out to him. "Maybe more than once."

The thought of her potentially thinking of him sometimes while she shagged her boyfriend gave Spike a heady, guilty thrill. _Well, hey, I am evil after all. And that relationship's a little rocky lately anyhow, so not my fault._ He walked as gracefully as he could in the heels and took the lingerie from her, smirk still in place. "As long as it stays up there only," he teased, pointing to her head.

"Of course," she said emphatically. "I'd never…"

"Me neither, pet. Close your eyes."

_Okay_, he told himself. _It's just this once. Doesn't make me any less manly. I can be manly enough to pull this off, even, he reasoned. _And I'm just gonna stand here. No prancing or anything_. As he looked at Fred with her eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head slightly. __I've finally gone 'round the bend. Leaving the blue number on the floor, he wiggled into the red and black lingerie then looked at the color against his pale skin. __But hey, I still look damn good!_

And for the umpteenth time in the past few minutes, Spike decided that something was definitely terribly, terribly wrong with this picture.

*********

"ANGEL! ANGEL!"

Angel's brow furrowed as he looked up from his book.  Spike was yelling loud enough to wake the dead. He wondered what could possibly be wrong now. Well, actually he didn't, but it seemed like he had no choice in the matter, because the footsteps were getting louder. So much for his afternoon off.

Spike burst through his door, panting, though why he was, Angel had no clue since he didn't need to breathe. Spike never did seem to get that through his thick skull.

"Angel, something's bug-shagging wrong with me!"

"It took you this long to figure that out?"

Spike gave him a disgusted look. "No, you slant head, I mean I think they brought me back wrong."

"And why do you think that, Spike?"

He seemed to be calming a bit, but he still looked somewhat panicked. "I've been blacking out, forgetting stuff."

"That's not too bad. Your body did go through quite a bit of trauma…"

"No," Spike interrupted, gritting his teeth. "This is different. I'm doing strange things."

"Like what, Spike?" Putting his book down, Angel raised his eyebrows, waiting to be convinced.

Suddenly Spike became sheepish, as if he were stalling. "Um… I'm craving cheese."

"Cheese?"

"Yeah, cheese."

"Well, I'll admit for a vampire that's a little odd, but you always did like food, and it's hardly scary."

"But why would I…"

Angel stared at him expectantly.

"Fine then, there's more." His expression then came very close to brooding before he suddenly stood up straighter. "Oh, remember when I bit the evil client?"

"Yes," Angel answered cautiously. He had no clue where this was going either.

"I felt guilty about that," Spike continued. "I'm not supposed to feel guilty."

"Well, yes, but you said that because of Buffy you didn't want to do stuff like that."

"Oh, yeah, that would explain it. Sorta." He furrowed his brow, and resumed his contemplative efforts, but Angel could tell that he was also still stalling.

"Spike, I know you're keeping something from me. If you want my help, spill it."

Spike sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'mdoinggirlystuff," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I'm doing girly stuff," he repeated, obviously miserable.

"Girly stuff?" Angel really had no idea what Spike was talking about.

"Yeah. Girly stuff." To illustrate his point, he held up his fingernails which were covered in nail polish.

"It's not the first time you've painted your nails, Spike."

"Yeah, but they're pink!" Spike protested. "And I don't remember doing it. It's like I come to and…"

Angel had the feeling something **really** traumatic must have happened to bring him here if he'd waited this long. "There was something other than nail polish wasn't there?"

Spike nodded, but then lifted his chin. "But I'm not gonna bloody tell you. Just trust me. It was something I'd **never done before. What the hell is happening to me? Why am I blacking out? And what's with the bloody weird behavior?"**

Angel really wished he knew what had made Spike so freaked out. It was likely even black-mail worthy, but he decided he'd do the good guy thing and help out. He could always try to find out later. He still owed him one for the leather jacket. "Sounds like we need to get the gang together and figure this out. You'll have to go through all the details of what happened that final night, and anything you remember about coming back."

Spike nodded. "Okay fine. Whatever I have to do, I'll do it."

Angel could feel his curiosity growing. Spike being cooperative? Whatever had happened, it must have been really bad. He decided that he definitely was going to find out. He supposed he also better find out what was wrong with Spike, though he was sure that would be much less satisfying.

Such was the burden of being the good guy.

TBC

Next chapter: The mystery behind Spike's strange behavior will be revealed. I promise. Sorry it wasn't this chapter, Gert Wallage. Please don't send anyone from the Initiative after me.


	4. The Horrors of Spilling the Beans

**Author's notes:** I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I made it a long one to make up for it. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. This chapter, like the last, is dedicated to the gang at the forums4fans Angel speculation thread.

**Summary:** Spike explained to Angel why he didn't want to go evil again. Buffy got her first glimpse of Cleveland. Lilah learned Spike is a pain in the … neck. Spike's blackouts increased including forays into pink nail polish and lingerie. We learned Fred is a little kinky. Desperate, Spike asked Angel for help with his problem.

**Chapter 4: The Horrors of Spilling the Beans and Doing Paperwork**

Everyone was staring at him. Spike sat down on the ottoman, but then bounced up again a moment later and started pacing.

"You sure you want to hear all of it? I mean, I don't think you do, and it likely won't be important."

"We'll be the judge of that, sweet cheeks. Of course you could always sing for me, and that might solve everything," Lorne told him.

"Bloody hell, that's not much of a choice," Spike said with a grimace. By the expectant look on the green demon's face, he had a feeling Lorne knew for the most part which parts would be more important and which wouldn't, but he'd rather hear all the juicy details anyway. Poncy git would probably make him sing to boot.

"I told you that you'd have to tell us everything," Angel reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," Spike grumped. "Okay where do you want me to start?"

"When you first got the amulet," Wesley said. "Start from there."

Spike gave him a skeptical look. "Okay well, look… you're gonna be sorry you asked this, mate." He directed the last part to Angel.

"I doubt it. Now stop stalling."

Spike tried sitting again. "Okay, well, I first got hold of the amulet when Buffy came back from killing Caleb and kiss…"

"When she came back from meeting with me," Angel interrupted while staring daggers at him.

"Hey! Now, I want to hear the rest of what blondie was gonna say there," Gunn teased.

"No you don't," Angel said.

Spike smirked. _Maybe I can make this fun after all_, he thought. _No, better go for safe_. He decided to keep himself in one piece instead and skip the seeing Buffy kissing Angel part for now, since it was obvious Angel hadn't shared with the group. He also decided to distract himself by pacing again.

"Okay, well when Buffy came back, I took the amulet from her for a moment to get a look at it. I could already tell it was powerful. Only overheard some of the story, though, cuz I left once I found out Buffy'd taken care of the baddie." _Only a slight fib there, he thought to himself. Stopping almost mid-stride, he leaned against a chair, cleared his throat, and continued. "Heard enough though and wasn't gonna let her take any chances. Told her that I'd wear the amulet for her. Until she said that it was meant for a champion. Wasn't gonna insist then, but she wanted me to have it anyway." He looked down and shook his head, momentarily lost in the memory._

"And you kept it with you the whole time?" Lorne asked. "You were the only one in contact with it after that?"

Spike roused from his musing. "Yeah. It was only with me and well, um, her when she stayed with me." He thought he was going to get away with leaving things there until Gunn perked up at his words.

"Alright, Blondie! Got a little 'just in case the world ends action', huh?"

_Ah, hell_. "No! No," he repeated more calmly. "It wasn't anything like that." _That time,_ he added in his head. "We just held each other, that's all." He purposely didn't look at Angel, even though he could practically feel him staring holes in the back of his head. He should be gloating about him and Buffy, not looking like a poof, but he needed help, and this was taking long enough as it was without a foray into piss off Angel land. Looking like a sap was a small price to pay to get this over with faster. He smirked despite himself though and readied himself to continue.

"Oh, how romantic. Just like in the movies," Fred suddenly gushed just when Spike thought he was safely out of the woods. "Spending that last uncertain night in the arms of the person you love, all safe and warm, giving each other comfort and strength…"

"I think we get the idea, sugarplum," Lorne interrupted, and Spike mentally thanked him. He might have tried to put a stop to her musings himself, but he had the distracting thought that Fred was somehow imagining the scenario with him in lingerie, and he was just too rattled to do it after that.

"Go ahead, Spike," Lorne encouraged.

Spike nodded. He was gonna end this quick. Details be damned. He stood up straighter and tried to muster the needed enthusiasm to get this over with. "Okay well, told you that it wasn't really important, because I didn't really feel much of anything concrete until I had it on in the cave anyway. Not at first though. At first it didn't really do anything, so I was just fighting as usual, but something must have activated it. Then it was pretty obvious it was doing something."

"What did it feel like?" Wesley asked.

_Oh good, a relevant question for once_, Spike thought. _Of course the answer brings up memories of things best forgotten, but…_  He faced Wesley. "At first, a real annoying vibration, and then it stung a bit. Eventually it was just mind-numbing pain. I was kinda stuck in place with this light shooting out of my body. The light dusted the ubervamps instantly, but it was just burning me up slowly from the inside out."

Angel looked calm now. Spike hoped it wasn't a façade.

"Then what happened?" Lorne asked.

"Buffy tried to get me to go with her, but I couldn't. No time to try really, and I had the feeling that I had to stay in order to end it for good anyhow. The place was collapsing, so she held my hand. That was when the flames I mentioned earlier came in. Not sure how they burned but didn't really leave a mark. She told me goodbye…"

"No she didn't," Angel said, and his tone was certain. "You said you had to convince her to leave."

"Okay, yeah, I did," Spike admitted. _Damn, he remembers everything. Forgot I blabbed that earlier_, he cursed himself. "But I'm sure what was said has no bearing on this, and I'm not sharing."

"Then you should probably sing," Lorne said. "I got a few impressions earlier, as I said, and you're right about your conversation not having anything to do with your problems now, but…"

"If I don't sing you won't know what does," Spike finished annoyed. "Can't I just hum or something? Had a bad experience last time I sang for people." That was an understatement. He remembered exactly what the last time he sang for someone lead to. At the time it had been what he wanted, but looking back on it now, he saw how much it hurt both him and Buffy. He could have done better for her.

"It can be anything," Lorne told him.

Spike's head went up. "Oh, I know." He cleared his throat and began to sing in a loud voice.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?

You're everything I wish I could be.

And I can fly higher than an eagle,

'cause you are the wind beneath my wings."

Spike blinked. He had a sudden feeling something was wrong again, because no one was talking. Had he blacked out and stood there like a zombie?

"That was just lovely," Lorne said after a moment.

"What?" Spike asked. His forehead furrowed in confusion, and the feeling in his stomach was sending him warning signals.

"Dude, that was definitely not what I expected," Gunn said with a chuckle.

Angel was staring at him with an amused smirk. Fred had a goofy expression on her face. Okay, he definitely missed something here.

"I sang something, didn't I?" Spike guessed.

Still chuckling, Gunn replied, "You sure did. Don't you remember? You sang the chorus to 'Wind Beneath My Wings.' You made a nice little Bette Midler."

Spike didn't have to fake the look of horror that came over his face. He shook his head. "You're off your bird! There's no way in hell. I would **not sing that," he assured them.**

"Actually," Lorne said. "You're partially right about that." The demon empath had a strange look on his face. "It wasn't really you."

*********

Buffy sat at the kitchen table of Giles rented apartment with an array of forms in front of her: a rental agreement for a small karate dojo, applications for an identification card, applications for a request to get a new birth certificate to apply for the identification card, an application to replace her social security card, an application to apply for a social security card for Dawn, applications for insurance, and numerous other paperwork buried beneath those. Somehow faced with all of these forms, she began to think that going to kill a few demons sounded preferable. Too bad it was the middle of the day. Sighing, Buffy decided that she needed a diet soda.

On her way to the refrigerator, she turned on Giles' radio. Classical music drifted through the speakers. It was nice, but she didn't need anything relaxing when the forms alone were enough to put her to sleep already, so she started flipping the channels. No one else was here right now; they got to go grocery shopping, the lucky ducks, so she could choose whatever music she wanted. Nothing seemed to hit her at first until she found a light pop station. Buffy smiled. She hadn't heard this song in years. Making her way to the refrigerator, she began to sing.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero…"

*********

"What?" It seemed to be a group effort, because they all asked at once, and they all stared at Lorne.

Well, everyone except Wesley who instead said. "Well, isn't that interesting."

"Could you elaborate, mate?" Spike asked Lorne. "What do you mean that it wasn't really me?"

"I didn't see it before, when I caught that glimpse, but now with the singing, and of course it makes sense now. Why I could tell that she meant what she said to you…"

"Lorne, I know you like to give all the details, but we're dying of suspense here," Angel prodded.

"Buffy," Spike almost whispered. The look on his face was one of both awe and confusion. He turned that look on Lorne. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, sweet cheeks, you're right," Lorne told him.

"Right about what?" Gunn asked.

"That's what's been causing his odd behavior," Lorne explained. "He's blacking out, because the piece doesn't belong. It's not his soul."

"It's Buffy's?" Angel asked, horrified as he put the pieces together.

"Just a small part," Lorne clarified. "Not her entire soul, so it's like a part of her essence. I'm not sure how it survived the process that took his own, but…"

"That's amazing," Wesley said. "I don't think I've ever heard of anything like that."

"And that's why I've been blacking out and doing girly, um, weird things," Spike corrected himself.

Lorne nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"But how? And why does it come and go like that?" Spike asked.

"Well, there must be a way it reached you," Wesley said. "Maybe when you clasped hands while the amulet was still active but had finished killing the vampires. And as for why it comes and goes… Is there any common event that causes it to occur?"

After thinking for a moment, Spike still couldn't come up with anything concrete. He shook his head.

"Oh," Fred said, perking up and clearly proud of her thought. "What brought on your singing blackout just now?"

"Nothing," Spike said. "I was just thinking about what happened last time I sang and how I…" He trailed off.

"How you what?" Angel asked.

"How I felt bad about what happened because of it," Spike said. He snorted and shook his head. "I guess it's that bloody simple then."

"Simple as what?" Wesley asked.

"I think about something that makes me feel guilty and out pops a loaner piece of soul. Except that I don't remember what I'm doing while it happens. Maybe cuz it's not mine."

"And somehow you seem to behave like her," Lorne added. "I'm assuming that was a song she liked?"

Spike snorted again. "Yeah, though she tried to deny it. She even wanted it for our sodding wedding."

"Your Wedding?!?" Angel yelled.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," Spike told him. "It wasn't a real wedding. It was a stupid spell Willow cast on us. Long time ago." He looked at Lorne. "But this explains a lot." He turned back to Angel in hopes of getting his mind off the accidental non-wedding. "The nail polish, the cheese…"

"Buffy always did have a thing for cheese," Angel agreed.

"The lingerie."

"Lingerie?" Angel asked. "What lingerie?"

Oops. He'd said that out loud?

"There was lingerie?" Gunn asked with amusement.

"No, not really," Spike backpedaled. "Just looking." He was glad no one else had a clue about Fred, because her totally goofy smile would have given her away in a moment otherwise.

"I bought some for Cordelia," she lied smoothly then, all trace of her grin gone. "He took an interest. Just a little look-see." A small, non-committal shrug came next.

Spike felt a small smirk creep onto his face. The little bird had hidden talent in deception. Who would've guessed? He would've been amused at that further, but he noticed Angel's expression change into that somewhat constipated look he got when he just put two and two together and came up with a four he was none too pleased with.

Angel turned narrowed eyes on him. "And how do you know Buffy likes lingerie?"

"Well, I figured, cuz, you know, girly stuff and all." The world was totally off kilter when a gal like Fred could lie more convincingly than he could. Oh, he was so buggered.

"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," Angel said after a moment and in a tone all too smooth. His eyes told Spike something entirely different though: something like _so you saw Buffy's lingerie, huh? How'd you like it crammed down your throat while I rip your arms off?_

Spike decided he better change the subject quickly. "But yeah – the guilt. Having a piece of Buffy's soul probably explains why I felt bad after I bit that evil guy and why I blacked out and ate cheese afterwards." This seemed to distract Angel for a moment at least, and Spike felt a small sense of relief. That was until the implications of the situation finally hit him. "Wait a mo'." He turned to Lorne. "These blackouts are getting more frequent and sometimes lasting longer rather than going away." He considered how long he must have been out during the little lingerie party with Fred.

"Yeah, it might be time we contact the big guns in the magic department," Lorne agreed.

"You mean Willow," Fred asked.

"That's exactly who I mean, sugar," Lorne said.

*********

"I can do this. I can do this," Buffy kept repeating to herself. Yeah, well how come after getting through half the pile of paperwork - though funny it didn't look any smaller - she wanted more than ever to go strangle something? No, strangling was too quick; she wanted to pretend it was that snobby bank clerk who she called on the phone to ask a question about her loan application, and who again insinuated she had little to no chance of getting the loan. She wanted to pretend the demon was him and then pound his bespectacled face a couple dozen times. Maybe she could find a nice vampire that looked like him. Taking a breath to calm herself, because such thoughts were not normal, well unless you were a psychopath anyway, she wondered why Dawn and the gang weren't back from the grocery store yet. She could really use a huge bowl of ice cream right now. With hot fudge. And whip cream and nuts. And… okay now she really was going crazy. Was a normal life really this much of a pain in the ass?

She heard the front door to the Giles' apartment open and the gang come bustling in, arms filled with groceries. "Did you get ice cream?" she asked hopefully.

Dawn made one of those disappointed teen faces. "We wanted to, but Giles said his freezer was full of enough, and I quote 'Bloody American junkfood' already."

Willow looked sheepish. "We couldn't give up the hot pockets."

"Well, of course not," Giles' said sarcastically. "Nor could we give up the frozen pizza or the tater tots or the frozen waffles that really taste nothing like waffles by the way…"

"Well Giles we don't always have time to fix real ones. It's nice to have the option."

"And speaking of options, how's the apartment hunting going?" Giles asked, turning his attention to her.  "You did get a chance to look over the brochures, correct? It might be nice if I actually got to live in this apartment rather than play keeper of the asylum."

"Those potato thingies really are colors like blue and green, Giles," Dawn protested. "I wasn't talking crazy."

"Not in my oven they're not," Giles told her before looking expectantly at Buffy again.

After glancing at the pile of brochures she'd picked up from various apartment buildings around the city, Buffy pouted in what she hoped was both an adorable and sympathy-inducing manner. She really had meant to get to them this afternoon. "I got the insurance applications done," she added hopefully.

"Oh good," Willow said as she continued putting groceries away. "Because we're really going to need insurance if Kennedy's going to be training potentials. What about the dojo?" she asked expectantly.

"Oh look, the sun's about to go down. I better make my way to the bus stop if I'm ever going to make the cemetery by sundown," Buffy announced, as she practically bounced out of her chair. "Gotta patrol."

"But there's a cemetery just a half mile to the south," Dawn pointed out less than helpfully. "You can make it there in a matter of minutes on foot."

"I think I did that one yesterday," Buffy fibbed. "Besides the one on the outskirts of town is much bigger, and lots and lots of fresh graves, or so I've heard." She grabbed her light coat and started stuffing stakes in the pockets. _Almost there, she thought eyeing the door._

"What about dinner?" Dawn asked.

"Put some in the fridge for me okay. I'll be back soon, really soon." _Fat chance, she though to herself. _Wait until they find that I haven't even looked at the dojo rental form yet.__

Giles was examining the table full of papers now. "Buffy, it doesn't look like you've even touched the apartment brochures."

"I'll get it when I get back," she promised, her hand finally reaching the door knob. She practically sprinted through the door.

"You forgot your key," she heard Giles yell to her retreating back.

_All the better reason not to come home before dawn_, Buffy thought. As she walked briskly down the street, leaving the apartment building behind her, she realized that she'd never been so anxious to get to a cemetery.

*********

"No!"

Everyone turned to look at Spike. Most of them showed confusion at his outburst, but Wesley was the one to ask.

"But I thought you wanted help with this problem? I think Willow would be the perfect solution. She helped us quite successfully recently with retrieving Angel's soul."

"I'd rather she not know. I'd rather Buffy not know." Spike mumbled the last part, but Angel heard it clearly enough.

"I'd thought you'd be glad for the chance to see Buffy," Angel said a little petulantly.

"Well, you thought wrong mate. I wouldn't."

"I don't understand," Fred said. "It seemed from what you said that you had…"

"That was before," Spike interrupted, his voice tinged with anger. He closed his eyes and inhaled as if trying to calm himself. "I had a soul then," he explained, his tone clipped like someone who was trying to explain something without losing his patience. "This one's not mine. It doesn't count, and when it goes back to her, I'll be soulless again."

"Spike…" Angel began.

"I'm not going to talk about this anymore!" He clenched his fists and unclenched them. "Just please, isn't there any way you can try to help me without them first? Big evil law firm here. Endless resources. There must be something."

Angel had a feeling he was missing part of the story: an important part. "Spike, what aren't you telling us? Whatever it is, you'll have to tell us eventually, because it's more than likely Buffy's going to have to find out about this. What if something's wrong with her because she's missing this part of her soul?"

Worry flashed into Spike's expression then, and he worked his jaw a moment. "There were some bad things that happened, before… Things on both our parts…" He looked away and shook his head slightly. "That changed afterwards, but as I am now, there'd be too much of a reminder."

"I'm sure we can work it out…" Angel began, but as he watched Spike he knew it was too late. His body language had changed.

"I've got to patrol," Spike said in a voice that didn't sound like his at all. He checked his newly acquired duster for a stake.

"Wait!" Angel said. "I'll come with you." He was glad for the fact that the sun had recently set. "We'll take a drive to one of the bigger cemeteries."

Spike shrugged. "Well, if you really wanna come, okay." He smiled. "Just don't get in my way. I wouldn't want to accidentally stake you."

Angel couldn't help a grin. If not for the sincerity, that statement could have come from either one of them.

*********

They'd tried for a month to help Spike with no luck. Angel never did find out why Spike was so against Buffy finding out, because any attempt at broaching the subject had usually resulted in a change. Whatever had happened, it must have been bad, because he definitely felt guilty about it. Angel also knew that whatever it was, Buffy must have forgiven him, or she never would have told him that Spike was in her heart. Angel decided that was good enough for him right now. Once he lost the piece of soul, then he might have to reconsider.

The changes brought on by the piece of soul similarly made Lilah's job nearly impossible.  After Spike found out about the cause, it made it all the more likely to happen whenever Lilah tried to get him to do anything even remotely evil. Although Angel often thought he was faking in her case. She couldn't recognize what Buffy's behavior was supposed to look like, but it gave Spike a good excuse when he killed demons instead of who he was supposed to be killing. Then he'd innocently pretend he didn't remember. Angel almost bought it himself, until he heard Spike snickering one night in another room as Lilah recounted once again how his "stupid progeny" as she often referred to him now, once again screwed up.

The charade was starting to unravel though, Angel was sure, because he could feel it in the air. The Senior Partners were beginning to wise up. He needed to restore Spike and figure out some way to get him out of this mess and far away from here. It was time to get in contact with Willow. And Buffy. Angel thought it best if Fred made first contact through Willow. The two of them had kept in contact via the internet. Angel poked his head in the research lab.

"Fred?"

Fred looked up from her most recent project. She tilted her head and smiled shyly. "You're ready for me to get in touch with Willow," she said.

Angel smiled back. "How did you guess?"

"Well, I figured you'd want more help after the most recent incident." She quirked her mouth. "I mean, the Viper always was your favorite." 

"What?" Angel asked. "Did something happen to my car?"

"Oh, um, you didn't hear?" Fred said with a little worry.

"Fred?" Angel prompted.

Fred wrinkled her nose and titled her head sideways. "Well, I guess Buffy's not too good of a driver… At least it can be fixed," she added cheerily. "Well eventually."

Angel's face fell. "My favorite car," he lamented as he imagined all sorts of horrible damage. Then he plastered on a fake smile. "Fred, get Willow on the phone. Now." If they didn't get Spike some help soon, Angel just might kill him before the Senior Partners got a chance.

*********

TBC

Next chapter: We return to the present and things really get twisted.


	5. The Horrors of Telephones and Surprising...

**Author's notes:** Well after a long delay, I have returned. This story will be finished, I promise with hopefully no more long term absences. To make up for it, here's an extra, extra long chapter.

**Summary:** Previously – Spike found out what was wrong with him, Buffy got buried in paperwork, Giles got buried in frozen convenience foods, Spike wanted to fix his problem without Buffy having to find out, and Angel decided he couldn't handle the loss of another car and decided to enlist Willow and Buffy's help. 

**Chapter 5: The Horrors of Telephones and Surprisingly, Lingerie Again.**

Angel stared at the phone for a long time, hoping it might ring and that there'd be business that required his attention on the other end. Of course it didn't ring, because when he wanted it to, it never rang. He swore that telephones of all kinds conspired against him. Well, not out loud, because then everyone would think he was crazy.

Having no excuse left, he dialed the number Fred had given him. As he listened to the ringing on the other end, he slid the piece of paper Spike had given him back and forth across the desk top. There wasn't even the usual static on the line to make it seem far away. No, this connection was going to feel up close and personal, just like they always promised on those long distance commercials. Angel really hated telephones.

Just as he hoped that maybe no one was home and he'd be able to delay this for a little longer, someone picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" The voice wasn't Buffy's, but that of someone younger.

"Is Buffy there?"

"Um, yeah, wait a sec."

Angel attuned to the background noises he heard from the other end, thinking maybe she'd be too busy, but no, she was picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Buffy, I…"

"Angel?" she interrupted him.

"Yes, um sorry to disturb you."

"Is something wrong? Do you need my help?"

"Actually there is something wrong, and I do need your help. How are you feeling?"

There was quiet for a moment with the sound of her breathing lulling him into a false sense of calm. He imagined that he could almost hear her forehead furrow as she considered how to answer his question.

"You know, Willow asked me that very same question. Something's up isn't it, because after I considered her question for a while, I did feel a little…" She paused a moment as if reconsidering. "But then again, maybe it's not me. I don't know why people expected me to be all chipper and fine again so quickly. Yeah, we all worked together to stop the apocalypse, and we did what was necessary, but that doesn't mean that I can so easily forget how they turned on me, and geez, if it hadn't been for Spike…" Her voice changed when she reached Spike's name, then abruptly ground to a halt as soon as she'd uttered it.

"Buffy, about Spike."

"Oh, you're not gonna go all jealous vampire again on me are you, because…"

"No, Buffy, Spike's here with me. In L.A."

There was dead silence. He didn't even hear the sounds of her breathing, and thought that maybe Buffy was holding her breath._ Way to just plunge in there, Angel_, he thought to himself. _About as smooth as a stampeding elephant.__ A stampeding demon elephant._ _With fangs_. After a moment, she finally did speak, but her voice was softer.

"That's not funny, Angel. You know that Spike's dead. He was buried in the hellmouth when he closed it."

"He did die. Sort of, but he was brought here by the powers at Wolfram & Hart soon after the hellmouth incident."

Another silence, this time accompanied by a hard intake of air. "You're serious? And you're just telling me this now?" she asked, flabbergasted. "And Spike didn't even call me to tell me he was back? I am so gonna kick his ass!"

Okay, he hadn't expected her mood to change that quickly. "Buffy…"

"This past month and a half, I've been all sad because I never got to really tell him how much all his help meant to me, how much his sacrifice meant to me, and what I did tell him, the jerk didn't even believe."

"Buffy!"

"What?" There was a little annoyance in her voice at being cut off from her rant.

"I would have told you, but Spike didn't want me to."

"Why would he do that? That doesn't make sense. I want to talk to him."

Angel looked down at the paper Spike had given him. On it, he'd written some things he wanted Angel to tell Buffy. It was written in simple language to minimize Spike having to think about it too much. Angel was impressed that he'd only gone into one of his states while writing it. Of course he'd had to wait until he returned to himself to finish it, but it could've been worse. Angel had promised to summarize the note for him with, as Spike had put it, "a little more polish, but not like a big poofter." Sighing, Angel answered her. "I don't think he could talk with you, Buffy. Spike's… He's a little weird."

"Weird? Spike's always weird, Angel."

"Not like this. Well, maybe it'll be easier if I sum up this note he gave me for you."

"Angel what's going on here? Why wouldn't Spike want to talk to me? Or see me? Is he… scarred?" She said the last word as if it was a compromise for a much harsher word, and he could imagine Buffy conjuring up all sorts of zombie-like images of Spike.

He sighed again, and glancing at the note, he decided to fill her in quickly. He just wasn't very good at subtle. "Spike didn't want to see you, because they took his soul from him, Buffy. He wouldn't tell me what happened before. Why that was so important…"

"What?" Buffy asked, but it seemed to quickly sink in. "Those bastards. He fought for that soul."

"I know. I mean, I guessed." Okay, that was actually a fib. Angel hadn't much considered how Spike actually got his soul, and thinking about it now, he felt a little guilty for not even asking, but then there was the whole problem with Spike losing himself whenever he felt guilty, and his reason for getting the soul seemed to be a touchy subject to say the least. Speaking of which, he hoped he hadn't paused too long in his answer, and continued on quickly. "But he didn't want you to see him like that. He was afraid because…"

"Because of what happened before, because of why he got it. Yeah, I get it now, why he'd think I didn't want to see him. Those bastards," she repeated.

"He's sorry for any hurt he might have caused you by not contacting you sooner. Especially if… Okay this next part's going to be a shock, Buffy."

"More shock? How can there be more?"

"Well, something very strange happened to Spike before he turned up in L.A." Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Angel prepared himself to tell her about the piece of her soul. He had a feeling that this was going to take a while, and that there would be many, many interruptions before he was through.

*********

Buffy stared at the phone and actually tapped the headset as if checking to see that it was working properly. She'd seen that in movies once or twice and had always thought it was so fake, that no one would ever do that, yet there she was, stunned into a cliché. If she could see herself, she bet she'd have a textbook expression of "huh?" to match.

"Buffy? Buffy, are you there?"

She looked blankly at the receiver before shaking herself into answering. "Um yeah, well, at least I thought I was here. I'm beginning to think now, maybe not. We didn't both decide to fall asleep and share a dream did we?"

"Huh?"

"Um, nothing. I guess that's a no then. Angel, are you sure about this? I mean, how? How could this have happened?"

"Well, we're not entirely sure. We didn't even know what was wrong with him at first. He was acting weird: saying things he wouldn't usually say, eating yogurt and cheese, wearing nail polish…"

"Well, he used to do the nail polish before, along with a dose of eyeliner and enough gaudy jewelry to make a pimp proud, but..."

"Pink nail polish," Angel clarified.

"Oh," Buffy said. "Well, yeah, Spike's not exactly a pink guy."

"No, and there might have been an incident with lingerie that finally spooked him into asking us for help. That's when he sang for Lorne and we were sure."

"You got Spike to sing for you? Wait a minute, did you say lingerie?"

Angel only answered her first question. "Well, he wouldn't sing at first, but then he had one of his blackouts and sang 'Wing Beneath My Wings.'"

"He sang… Oh he didn't," Buffy moaned. She took a breath, waiting, and was relieved when Angel continued on without mentioning anything else about the song.

"I'm afraid so. I think that helped Lorne quite a bit in deciphering what was wrong. We're still not sure how. Spike did mention holding your hand and there being weird flames, but that's only a guess."

"And you're sure it's a part of my soul?"

*********

Angel only dwelled on her question for a moment. He was more than sure. He could feel it in his own soul. "Yes, we're sure. Right down to the craving's for cookie dough ice cream and the horrible driving skills. It's creepy, Buffy, sometimes he makes these expressions and… You're not doing anything Spike-like are you, because I'm not sure I could handle that?"

"No, I'm just me, Angel. Maybe a little more detached than usual, but still me."

"But you're okay?"

"Except for that yes, I'm okay."

"Because I was worried." Some possessive part of him wanted to leave it at that, but he was the good guy so he begrudgingly added,  "Well, Spike was too, but he really wanted us to try and get your piece of soul back to you without you having to know anything, and it was very hard to reason with him when he kept… well, turning into you. We had a few incidents where I had to distract him from going out to patrol when there was still daylight, because it wasn't easy explaining to him why he couldn't get a head start to the graveyards. I think eventually he got it, but distraction was still easier."

"I can imagine. I had a hard enough time discouraging him from going out in daylight, when he was just Spike," Buffy commented dryly.

Angel snorted. Spike really was stubborn as hell.

"Is there going to be a way to do this, Angel? Get my piece of soul back?"

He tried to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. "Wesley's been researching, but we don't have it yet. Willow said she'd help, too, but everything we do have so far indicates that you'll probably have to be here. It's not like pulling a soul from the ether. This one is rooted in a being, and Wesley says it'll be easier to return if the piece of soul has its natural body to attract it back."

Buffy was very quiet a moment, and Angel could almost feel her mulling over what he'd said. Her contemplative tone when she spoke seemed to confirm his assessment.

"Angel, do you think we should leave it?"

"What? Leave the piece of your soul?" Why would she even suggest that?

"Yes. I'm okay. I mean, I'm not perfect, but I'll live, but if we take it away from Spike, then he'll be…" She left the last words unsaid, but they both knew what they were.

"I know, but we don't have a choice I don't think. He can't live much longer like this. It's getting worse, and he's too unpredictable. I can't be there to watch him all the time. He's going to get himself killed one day by stepping out into the sun or something."

"It's that bad?"

"Most of the time it's guilt that brings it on, but all it takes sometimes is a memory to trigger it. And his blackout periods are lasting longer."

"What'll happen if we do this: put the piece of soul back in me? What if he can't get his own soul back?"

"I don't know. We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. How did he get it in the first place?"

"I'm not entirely sure. He said that there were trials. Pain and torture. He went to Africa to get it. I'm not sure how long it took him to get back, but he…" she trailed off.

"What, Buffy?"

"He was insane when I found him, Angel. He'd… cut himself, said he'd tried to cut it out. It took him a while before he was even coherent again. I'm not sure if he'd be willing to go through that again."

Angel knew all too well the burdens of having a soul, and the temptation to just let it all go sometimes. Maybe it was time to get a hold of Lilah, literally by her scrawny, fragile neck, and get some answers out of her. "I'll find out what really happened to Spike's soul, Buffy. I promise."

"I'll be there as soon as I can get a break from things here, and Angel?"

He heard something in her voice. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, maybe concern for him… or for Spike or maybe both of them. He didn't think he could take knowing for sure. "It's okay, Buffy. We'll fix this."

"I know. I'll see you soon."

As soon as Angel hung up the phone, it rang. "Oh sure, now you ring," he muttered at it before grabbing up the receiver. "Angel speaking."

"Boss, we have a situation in the lobby that I think you need to take care of," Harmony's voice said through the receiver.

"Please let it be a demon," Angel sighed.

"How did you know?" Harmony asked chipperly. "I mean did you have Wolfram and Hart give you psychic abilities, because I was thinking of maybe having them…"

Angel hung up on her mid sentence and hastily rose from his chair. He was at the elevator a moment later and in the lobby soon after that. Of course, he was still too late; security had taken care of the demon. "Dammit!" Angel complained.

"Yes, I'm not sure how that happened," Wesley noted as he joined him in the lobby, obviously misunderstanding Angel's reason for cursing. "I have a feeling that won't be the end of this though."

"Really?" Angel asked hopefully, then cleared his throat. "I mean, are you sure? What do we know about these demons?"

"Some, but I think I should maybe find out some more…"

"I'll do it, Wesley. I'm sure you have a lot to do and I could use a break from the Hawthorn negotiation."

"Well, alright," Wesley agreed a little uncertainly.

"Go ahead and bring the relevant texts to my office, would you?" Angel knew better than to ask Wesley to have someone else bring them. The former watcher was extremely protective of his special books.

"How about I gather the information for you and you can read it over? Then we'll make a plan. I have a feeling it will involve at least a little bit of demon hunting." Wesley smiled, and Angel had the feeling that the other man was aware of his need to get out and do some old fashioned ass-kicking at this particular moment.

"Thank God, and yes, I'll be upstairs waiting for the information."

Wesley chuckled. "Talk to the ex a bit ago? And is she coming here to help with our Spike situation?"

"Yes, so I hope to have this demon situation resolved before then."

"I'll get you the information. Then I'll get everything I have on Spike's dilemma together in preparation for her arrival."

"Thank you, Wesley," Angel said genuinely, glad that Wesley knew what he needed without having to be told. He headed to his office to wait. The fact that he made it to the elevator door and it was already closing when Harmony spied him and tried to say something was simply a bonus.

*********

Wesley gathered all of the pertinent information on the Koshnik demons, and a nasty lot they were too. Well, he supposed most demons weren't fluffy little kittens now were they? Somehow they always seemed nastier though when mucus was involved. Tucking the loose materials carefully under his arm so he could devote two hands to his precious, special text, Wesley headed for Angel's office. He hoped that the demon venture might give Angel a much needed lift. His boss had seemed increasingly unhappy with their current situation and the increasing amounts of gray area it seemed to entail. Of course Buffy's impending arrival probably didn't help either.

He knocked on the door, making sure to hide any hint of musing from his expression. "I have what you need."

"Come on in, Wesley."

Wesley opened the door. "Harmony not back yet?" He indicated the empty chair behind the secretary's desk.

"I think she took a coffee break after the demon clean-up."

"Well, Koshnik demons are rather messy. Nasty too." He handed the materials over to Angel, not letting go of the book until he was sure that Angel had a good grip on it. "Hang on to this when you're done. I'll pick it up later."

"That's okay, Wes. I can always have Harmony bring it back…" he trailed off, smiling ever so slightly at what Wesley presumed was his look of total horror as he imagined the awful things which could befall his text in the hands of the blonde vampire.

"Very funny," Wesley commented. "If you consider something like having an ice pick stuck in your eye funny."

"Depends on the context," Angel deadpanned. Sometimes Wesley forgot the vampire could be humorous.

"Well, have fun with your demon research. Let me know if you need any help combating them."

"Sure thing, Wesley," Angel said with a vague, half-wave. He already had his gaze buried in the information.

*********

"A nasty demon, huh?" Spike asked a bit too enthusiastically as he popped in the door. He rubbed his hands together expectantly.

_Oh damn_, Angel thought. _He overheard_. "I have to research it a little first. We can't just go charging out blindly." Wondering if he'd see through that little exaggeration, he sighed and faced Spike, who at the moment reminded Angel of an excited puppy who was told he had to sit instead of getting to play. That could mean only one thing. Spike was bored and needed a distraction, because when he was bored, he got to thinking, and when he got to thinking, he felt guilty, and when he felt guilty…

"Darn," Spike announced, plopping himself down on a chair. He slouched and folded his arms over his chest. The pout, though, that was the icing on the cake. He couldn't have looked more like Buffy at that moment unless he had a wig and a dress. Actually that was a scary thought considering he'd already been subjected to the dress part of that sight. Damn, Angel hated rerun season. At least TV shows would have kept Spike distracted.

Okay, he had to handle this delicately. Wesley was getting tired of Spike eating all his cheese, and he'd just eaten the last of the yogurt this afternoon. Moving his gaze back to the research book he was reading, Angel sighed again. "I think there's a new carton of chocolate cookie dough ice cream in the freezer in the break room. Why don't you have some of that?"

Spike's chin came up. "Is there fudge? Or whip cream?"

"Probably. Why don't you go look?"

"Goody," Spike announced as he bounced up and headed for the break room down the hall.

Okay, so that was a temporary solution, but Spike could afford to gain a few pounds, if food even made a vampire gain weight that was, and it would keep him busy for the moment. Angel grinned evilly. If Spike figured out that he was the one who kept buying all the fattening cookie dough ice cream, there'd be hell to pay.

Angel got a good twenty minutes worth of research in on the demon problem, before he heard a very annoyed Spike yell "Angel!" from down the hallway. He had to bite his lip to keep a straight face. "Not now, Spike, I've got to get the gang together to discuss the demon." He put down his book and walked to his door which Spike had left ajar. He barely got it closed before he started snickering.

*********

Spike smiled. Killing the demons had been extremely fun and surprisingly hadn't brought on any feelings of guilt whatsoever.  Even Angel seemed to have a good time with the little spot of violence. That had been nice to see. They'd actually shared a little bonding moment there, he reckoned. _Only it isn't going to last, now is it,_ he asked himself wryly. Once the soul was returned to Buffy, things weren't so certain. Angel had let him go before when he'd been soulless, but that Angel hadn't been the same creature. Now he was committed to his mission and plagued enough by morally gray decisions. Spike wasn't sure his grandsire would allow him to be yet another example of such a compromise.

Deciding he better get his things in order, Spike made his way down the hallway towards the elevator. Willow and Buffy would likely be here soon, and if something were to go wrong… well he didn't really have anything of value, but he wanted to leave some final words. He heard footsteps rushing up behind him. He knew it was Fred even before she followed him into the elevator.

She looked at him a bit shyly. "So this might be your last few days as you are, huh?"

"Looks like."

"Um, well, I'll kind of miss the fun we have. It's only been a couple of times, but they were quite memorable. I'd even gotten you a new outfit."

Spike smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"But, since it's so close and all…"

"You want one more go, huh?" He smiled at her.

"It is black silk," she said, looking at him coyly.

"Well, can't see as I can refuse that, love. You want me to drop by in a bit?"

"I'd like that."

The bell to the elevator rang. "Your floor, pet. I'll be by in a moment. I'll freshen up a bit first."

She giggled a bit as she exited the elevator, looking back for a last peek as the doors closed. _Ah, bugger it_, Spike thought. _Forget the bloody last words. I'll be fine._ Smiling as he entered his room, he quickly shucked his clothes and headed for the shower. He took his time, making sure he used the good stuff so that he'd smell really nice. It was sweet really. Black was his favorite while she liked the blue, so it was thoughtful of her to get black for him. He smirked as he dried off and dressed in something easily removed. He really must be crazy doing this, but what the hell?

As he finally approached her suite door, he almost had second thoughts, but then she opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. With that adorable, hopeful smile, how he could refuse her? Then she held up the silky black number she'd picked out for him, her mouth curved up in just a hint of a naughty smile, and he knew he couldn't. Ah, hell, he'd think of something to make him feel guilty.

*********

Angel looked around. Why was Harmony only around when he didn't need her? He hadn't even made it to his office yet. People just kept stopping him, asking him to sign this, authorize that. Couldn't they see he had Koshnik demon guts and mucus all over him? Stupid demons.

Okay, the demon killing had been fun at first, but Wesley really should have stressed just how much mucus was involved. And why had it seemingly all ended up on him? Well, Spike had gotten **some** on him, but he really hadn't seemed to care, and somehow Angel had the feeling he knew about the mucus beforehand, because he left his coat behind which he hardly ever did. Angel mentally berated Spike in his head, grumbling as he finally made it to his office, but not before the mucus and guts had dried on his coat in sticky masses, again.

"Oh there you are, boss," Harmony said to him as she emerged from the elevator and walked to her desk. She looked him over with a pitying expression. "Oh you better get yourself cleaned up, because you have visitors." She smiled brightly. "Wesley is bringing up Willow and Buffy. Remember you were expecting them?"

_No, the thing that I've been worrying about over the last few days just happened to suddenly slip my mind_, he though sarcastically, but he didn't say that. Instead he tried to keep his teeth from clenching. "And when did Wesley say he'd be coming up? I'm sure he'll want to fill them in on what's going on…"

The elevator door dinged cheerily just before it opened to reveal Wesley, Willow, and Buffy.

"Here they are now, Boss," Harmony announced helpfully.

Angel would have glared at her longer, but he had other concerns. She didn't give him the chance anyway, rushing off instead to do something else likely not useful.

"Angel," Buffy said as she walked up to him. "You look… messy." The look on Willow's face seemed to second Buffy's statement, but she tried hard to hide it.

Wesley was looking at him sheepishly, probably reading the expression Angel was giving him loud and clear. "I thought I'd bring Buffy up here, because Willow and I have much to discuss that likely won't make much sense to her at this point. I thought maybe you could fill her in in the meantime."

"That's okay," Buffy said. "I'll muddle through. I'm sure Angel would like to get that…"

"Mucus," he supplied.

Buffy made a face which Angel at least thought was cute. He would've thought Buffy would be jaded to such things by now. Then again, mucus was in a class by itself that even guts and blood couldn't touch. He couldn't help but smile at her.

"Fred might be able to help," Wesley suggested. "Then Angel could get cleaned up, and you'd still be up to speed."

"Good idea, Wes," Angel said in a tone that let the other man know he was half-way forgiven but not entirely out of the woods yet. "Was she headed to her suite when you talked with her?"

"Yes, I believe she was," Wesley answered. "She said she'd be taking a break for a bit. She'd had a long day, and it is that time."

Angel thought ruefully that he wished his other employees would realize that every once in a while, but when demons worked for you, they didn't always follow the usual work day schedule. "Fred can fill you in, Buffy." He glanced apologetically at his crusted coat. "I'll try not to be too long."

"That's okay," Buffy told him with a smile. "Guts can be a bitch to wash off."

Angel smiled back. "Fred's on the 43rd floor, suite D."

"You'll like Fred, Buffy," Willow added as she stepped beside Wesley waiting at the elevator. "She's really nice."

Buffy smiled at her. "Have fun with the spell talk, Willow."

"Will do," Willow called back. She was already heading onto the elevator with Wesley." So what kind of spell do you think this was?" The elevator doors closing blocked out most of Wesley's response.

Buffy looked at him with one last smile and said, "Go ahead, Angel. I'll see you soon." He watched her until the elevator doors closed.

*********

Well, this was it: Fred's suite. Angel agreed that Fred would likely know where Spike was and be able to fill her in on the details of what they knew so far. Buffy had agreed with Wesley that if she'd stuck with him and Willow, she'd have been lost in an avalanche of magical terms and mystical whatevers. Her friend had already been almost literally bursting with energy at the thought of a new spell prospect that might be helpful. Buffy wondered how she'd been able to keep the secret from her until Angel had called to tell her about Spike.

Well, no real reason to stall here. She knocked softly on the door. "Fred?"

"Yes," she heard from the other side, so she opened the door.

"Wait a minute," Fred finished belatedly, and then, "oh." The girl blushed furiously. As Buffy opened the door wider, she saw that Fred was surrounded on the bed by a wide array of lingerie.

"Sorry," Buffy told her with a smile. "But that's okay, we're all girls here. I'm Buffy." She stuck out her hand for Fred to shake, but before she could take it, someone distracted them both.

"I don't know," said a voice from behind a dressing screen. "Are you sure this pink doesn't make me look fat?" The voice sounded familiar, but weird. That couldn't be….

Spike came out from behind the screen garbed in a pink teddy with black bows, silk stockings and black, high-heeled ankle boots. He was looking back over his shoulder, trying to get a look at his rear. Her mouth hanging open, Buffy stared.

"It does, doesn't it?" He looked up and startled a bit on seeing her.

"It's alright, Spike," Fred said encouragingly. "It's just Buffy."

"Buffy," Spike said happily. He smiled. "I just have one more I promised to show Fred, okay?" He held up one finger. "And then we have so much catching up to do." He went behind the screen and before Buffy had time to do more than recover her senses and give Fred an odd look as she pointed to the screen, he was back out again, this time in a black number with subtle lace accents.

"Well, does it look as good as you hoped?" Spike asked, doing a slow turn.

"Better," Fred told him. "I knew it would look great on you." She looked somewhat shyly at Buffy, blushing a bit, before turning back to Spike. "But go ahead and get changed, because I'm sure Buffy wants to see you."

Spike nodded and smiled at Buffy. "I'll be out in a few minutes," he told her and he slipped into Fred's bathroom. Buffy turned to Fred once the shock wore off, ready to ask a question, but the woman started a rush of words before she even got the chance. "Okay, I know that this seems odd…"

"Odd?" Buffy asked incredulously. "What was that?"

"Well, it's sort of Spike, but he has, well, your personality sometimes, and this is one of the things he likes to do then, and well…" She blushed and looked down. "I kinda like it. A lot."

Buffy felt jealousy coming on, but she stomped it down, mostly. "Are you and he?" She made vague hand gestures that nevertheless must've gotten her point across, because Fred's eyes widened.

"No! No, not at all. Just looking," Fred assured her. "I'd never… See, he doesn't remember it mostly, so he lets me play as long as I wait until we're done to snap him out of it."

Buffy looked at her,  her own brain considering for a moment what she could do with a Spike who wouldn't remember later, before she stomped that thought with a high heeled boot – like Spike had worn a moment ago on his lean, muscular legs... Okay not helping. Fred, on the other hand, appeared not to have indulged, because Buffy could tell from the sincere expression that the woman was telling the truth. She guessed the truth was weird enough anyway.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Fred asked.

"Not sure I believe it yet myself," Buffy told her. After a moment she added. "So Spike in lingerie, huh?" Her eyebrows rose skeptically.

"Oh come on," Fred said. "He looks totally hot." She bit her lip and blushed furiously again.

"Well, the boots were definitely cute," Buffy agreed.

"His favorite too. Oh, but you better wait outside…" Fred said suddenly. She flicked a glance at her bathroom door as if she was worried that he'd emerge at any moment. "He might get suspicious if you're here and think you saw him." Bouncing quickly off the bed, Fred opened the door for her. "Wait a moment then knock," she suggested.

Though it might be fun to tease Spike, Buffy decided she'd spare him that potential trauma. Smiling as she went out into the hallway, she decided that didn't mean she couldn't eavesdrop though. She put her ear to the door, pleasantly surprised that she could hear almost everything.

She heard Fred knocking on the bathroom door. "We're all finished, Spike."

She didn't hear Spike come out, but she heard his voice answer huskily as he entered the room. "So, did you have a good time, pet?"

"As always," Fred agreed.

"Didn't take any pictures I hope," he said in a mock gruff voice. "Those always end up getting where they shouldn't."

"Oh, no. No pictures, I promise," Fred said. "Though it was tempting, I'll admit. You looked really great in that silk one I bought you."

Spike's voice got serious then. "You know, Fred, if this works, I might not be able to stay."

"Well, no, I wouldn't expect you to, um, keep trying on lingerie…" she trailed off.

Spike snorted a small laugh. "No love, I didn't mean that. I meant that I probably won't be able to stay here, being all evil again and such."

"There are things I can still do," Fred told him. "Don't give up yet…"

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, pet."

"You wouldn't…"

"Won't have a soul anymore. It's gotta go back where it belongs, and once it does, it's gonna be harder for me to fight them."

"They do awful things to you, don't they?" Fred asked, her voice catching a little.

Buffy had to strain to catch her words that time. She frowned at the implication of the words, wondering who Fred was talking about.

"I think that comes with the whole evil package, now doesn't it? And I think they're losing patience with me. They'll know when I'm… here, take this."

"A stake? What do you want me to…"

"In case you need it, pet. If I have to be done in, you're one of three I'd prefer to do it."

"Spike I'm not going to…" She yelped a little.

"Never forget what I am," Spike told her.

Buffy heard Fred relax with an audible sigh, and assumed that Spike had let go of her. His voice was quieter as he continued.

"I can control it some, but it's not always easy under the best of circumstances. It's not like I mindlessly go out and bite everybody. I didn't bite her, for example. Didn't want to once I knew how I felt. Eventually though, they're going to get to me. I'm not daft enough to think otherwise."

Buffy knew in her gut that she was the "her" Spike had referred to. She'd always wondered how hard it had been for him not to bite her.

"Angel will help. He won't let them…"

"He's given me a chance until now, pet, but once the soul is gone, he won't be so sentimental. If he has to do me in, I'd accept that too."

"Oh, that's a bunch of crap," Fred said suddenly. "You would not."

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise. She'd bought it.

"What makes you say that?" Spike asked with amusement.

"You'd fight him tooth and nail, and you know it," Fred answered. "And that's one fight I wouldn't be interested in being anywhere near, either. And if I had to choose…"

"Know that, pet. I'd lose respect for you if you didn't."

"If I had to choose, it would be hard," she told him seriously. "I've known Angel longer, and we've worked closely together. Not to mention that he saved me from a hell dimension, but…"

"Sharing a lingerie secret brings me close to your heart," Spike teased.

"Something like that," Fred replied with a tone in which Buffy could almost hear the accompanying smile. "Of course, I would ultimately have to choose Angel," she continued, her tone increasing in its teasing quality. Then she almost squealed as if being tickled or something, and Buffy wished she knew what was going on. "Stop these are delicate," Fred scolded.

"That's why they're called delicates, pet, and hey!"

Buffy heard Fred giggle.

"Fancy I've done enough wearing of these already today. Don't need em on my head. 'Sides, I've gotta get serious." He took a heavy breath. "God, I hate this. Why couldn't they have just left me dead?"

Buffy startled as she heard the sound of a slap.

"Hey, ow!" Spike complained.

"Sorry. I was afraid I was going to lose you there for a minute."

"Oh, right. Right you were, ducks. Thanks. That thought process would've made me slip again."

Buffy decided she better not wait any longer. Fred was likely wondering what happened to her as it was, or then again, maybe not. She did seem to be quite cozy with Spike. Pulling herself up straighter, Buffy took a breath, deciding she better do this now before she lost her nerve. She knocked on the door, the wood feeling harder against her knuckles than it should have.

"Come in," Fred's voice answered from inside.

Buffy gripped the door knob hard and opened. "Hey, Spike. I'm here."

TBC


	6. The Horrors of Retribution from Brassedo...

**Author's Notes:** Believe it or not, I'm still here and I'm still writing even though it seems like I'm moving at a snail's pace – if the snail was crawling through mud, in winter, and towing a trailer – but this will be finished. In fact, there's probably only one more chapter to go after this. So for those of you who've actually stuck with this – this chapter is for you.

Summary: Previously – Angel finally called Buffy to break the news that Spike was alive and had a piece of her soul. Buffy took it rather well, considering, though there was promise of some butt-kicking for being left out of the loop. Wesley's precious books were teasingly threatened. Angel indulged in some much needed demon killing, but he unfortunately had to take Spike along. Angel's coat returned from said trip worse for wear - again. Fred talked Spike into one last foray with the lingerie just in time for Buffy to arrive and witness the debauchery. Buffy also learned some of Spike's predicament by listening at the door before finally going in to see him.

**Chapter 6: The Horrors of Retribution from Brassed-off Slayers and… well that's enough actually**

"Buffy," Spike said.

Seeing his eyes widen and his lips remain parted, Buffy realized that Spike hadn't remembered seeing her before now. She guessed he really did have no memory of what he did when he was under the influence of her piece of soul. Well, considering what she'd just seen him doing under that influence, perhaps that was for the best. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Buffy."

Fred's nose wrinkled, and she smoothed her skirt restlessly in the awkward silence that followed. "Well, I think I'll go see if Wesley and Willow need any help and let you guys catch up."

Spike looked momentarily worried, his gaze sweeping to Fred for reassurance. "Wait. What happens if I… slip?"

Buffy answered before Fred had a chance. "I won't let it happen." She frowned a bit as she said it. The lingerie was bad enough, but he was looking to Fred for support? That was _their_ thing. Wasn't that what last year had been about: them being there for each other?

"You'll be fine," Fred assured him. She tilted her head and smiled encouragingly. "Just don't think about anything to make you feel guilty."

"Thanks, pet. I'll try. See you soon?"

Fred smiled winningly. "Definitely."

Buffy watched her leave, not missing the very short length of the woman's skirt as she walked out with a bouncy gait. She turned back to Spike. "So, you two are chummy." Okay she'd tried to make it sound casual and not at all jealous.

Spike's gaze flickered to the lingerie on the bed. "It's not really what it looks like."

She could see his brows lower a little and just knew he was trying to think up a good lie. So, he thought he had something to cover up, did he? She supposed it might be amusing to hear what he came up with but not enough to wait for it. "Oh, then it wasn't you parading around half naked while she watched?" Well, she hadn't planned on bringing that up, really, but that was before she decided that she was miffed.

"Oh, you saw the lingerie, then?" At least Spike had the decency to look a little sheepish, though not enough as far as Buffy was concerned.

"Yeah, I saw the lingerie." Her eyes narrowed a bit.

"Well, see. I don't really remember it, so I figure there's no harm as long as Fred… wait a minute. You're jealous again." His expression changed from contrite to fairly cocky in a few seconds flat, complete with that smirk that either made her want to smack him or kiss him or both. Usually wanting to smack him won out. She was coming close to it right now actually.

_How the heck does he do that so fast?_ "I am _not_ jealous," she fired back. "It was just… Do you realize how little you were wearing?"

"Not really convincing me that you weren't jealous, love," he purred, moving a little closer to her now.

"Don't have to. It was just that..." He was almost in her personal space now, and alarm bells were going off in her brain. "It was weird, and, and... you so _did_ look fat in that pink teddy." She crossed her arms smugly. Okay not the most mature comeback, but she'd take it.

Spike wrinkled his forehead in confusion, obviously trying to remember and coming up blank. "Fred had me in pink? She knows that's not my color." He looked down at his stomach, pinching it a little. "And this is your fault anyway. You and your cravings for cookie dough ice cream. Doesn't do much for my physique."

"Not much for your consideration either, obviously. Not even bothering to tell me you were back." She raised her eyebrows and scowled at him to accompany her still crossed arms. Now that she thought about it again, this still ticked her off.

"Now, Angel was supposed to explain that part. Figures he'd mess it up. I had a good reason for not telling you."

"Because you'd lost your soul?" she asked, her tone a little more skeptical than she intended.

"Well, yeah. I thought that…"

She poked him in the chest. "You trust me that little? After all we went through together?"

"But that was then, pet. And I didn't trust myself."

She wasn't buying his look of innocence. She poked her finger into his chest harder. "Right. That's almost as lame as 'it's not you. It's me.' What you're really saying is that after all we did for each other, I'd just brush you off, just like that, without trying to help, is that it?" Buffy found herself pushing him up against the wall. She really had intended for this to be a civil conversation, but lately her restraint wasn't what it used to be and Spike was coming dangerously close to stirring up old feelings of knock down, drag outs that she missed more than she'd like to admit. She could always blame it later on the missing piece of her soul, but right now this felt good.

Surprisingly her manhandling just seemed to cause Spike's smug expression to return, and her annoyance notched up bit. _That cocky, arrogant…He hasn't changed a bit. _ He glanced down amusedly at her hand buried in his shirt before asking her with obvious innuendo, "What you gonna do with me now, pet? Show me how wrong I was?"

Whatever he imagined, it obviously wasn't the knee that she bought up to hit him in that sensitive area between his legs. That was if his expression of surprise was any indication anyway.

---------

_Well, at least that's good news_, Angel thought. He guessed that fresh eyes, or minds as it might be, really did make a difference. Willow had only been here a little while, and already it looked like she and Wesley were making progress. With Fred on her way to join them, it could only help even further. It appeared as if they might be able to find a spell to restore Buffy's piece of soul to her after all. Fred had told him where Buffy was, so now that he was actually presentable, he could tell her the good news. Checking his still damp hair with his hand one last time, he gave up on it and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

Well, the sight that greeted him wasn't exactly what he'd expected to find, but somehow he wasn't that surprised either. The first thing he saw was Buffy, sitting rather comfortably astride Spike's backside and unceremoniously smashing his face into the carpet.

"Now watch the delicates, love. You did just give em a bit of a shock a moment ago."

"Oh, I didn't hit them that hard," Buffy griped, bouncing slightly on his rear and eliciting a grunt from Spike. "And you deserve this, you jerk. Not telling me you came back. I told Angel I was gonna kick your ass."

"She did say that," Angel agreed, deciding this was as good an opening as any to make his presence known.

"Angel," Buffy said with some surprise, making movements of leaving Spike's back.

"Don't get up on my account," Angel said with a smirk. "I'd kinda like to see you kick his ass." His eyebrows rose in amusement, and he casually crossed his arms to lean against the doorframe. This was gonna be fun.

"That wasn't the part she kicked," Spike grumbled.

"Shut up." Buffy smacked him off the head for emphasis. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Yeah, yeah. Still say you're jealous, pet."

"I am not. And if I were you I wouldn't be making references to things that just happen to involve you parading around in lingerie."

"Lingeire?" Angel asked, though now he could definitely see the lacy garments jumbled together on Fred's bedspread. _And Spike was wearing these?_ Suddenly Spike's urgency to ask for help not too long ago made sense. He should've guessed that "just looking" was deleting a lot of juicy details. Chuckling, he walked to the bed and picked up a piece of it. At least he was chuckling until he realized how expensive these likely were and that if they were large enough for Spike to wear, he doubted they would fit someone else. "Hey, the money I gave Fred was to buy stuff for Cordelia, not you," he complained to Spike. Angel didn't realize his mistake until Buffy's attention turned to him instead of her previous target.

"Cordelia?" she asked, her brow furrowed for a moment until it sunk in, then she wrinkled her nose a little. "You were buying lingerie for Cordelia?"

"Well, it isn't like it sounds," he tried to explain. "And Cordy's in a c…"

"Cordelia?" she repeated.

Spike snickered, and Buffy bounced again. "Hey," he complained, but no one paid any attention to him.

"And did this happen before or after you came to Sunnydale, because there was no mention of Cordelia then?" Buffy crossed her arms.

_Uh, oh_, Angel thought, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. Unfortunately, since nothing useful was coming to him he went with, "Well, you weren't going to tell me about Spike."

The momentary look on Buffy's face told Angel that this one took her off guard for a moment. She wrinkled her forehead momentarily, but then the stubborn look came back just as quickly as it had gone. "That's not the same thing. Spike and I… it's not the same. Besides, you got to know about Spike, so it was only fair… And it's _Cordelia_."

"Oh, come on. That isn't anywhere near as bad as Spike."

"I'm lying right here," Spike pointed out. "And speaking of which, you're getting kinda heavy, Slayer. You think you could… Ow."

Buffy gave his head one last thump as she none to gingerly got off of his back. Spike grumbled something about difficult slayers as he picked himself up off the floor.

"Okay, we'll forget about this for now," she stated, "because we have more important things to do." Buffy nodded her head for emphasis, and her eyes dared Angel to argue with her. "But I'm not done with this for good, so don't be getting any ideas that you're off the hook." She snorted and mumbled "Cordelia" under her breath.

Okay, this was bad. Better to let Buffy cool off about this one for now, and besides she wasn't entirely herself. Maybe it would slip her mind once she was back to normal. He tried to ignore the satisfied smirk Spike was giving him and bit his lip in an effort to remain silent on the matter, deciding instead to take the opportunity to tell them both the good news before he got himself in any more trouble.

---------

Spike couldn't wipe the smirk off his face if he tried. Buffy had been jealous. She could deny it all she wanted, but he saw. Of course she was also jealous about Cordelia, but hell, he'd take it considering Angel now shared her wrath.

God, it was good to see her. He didn't realize how much so until she'd actually been there, standing in the door. And yeah, she'd kneed him in the wrinklies, but that was likely all that had kept him from responding in a less than appropriate manner when she'd started in with the rough and tumble. This wasn't the Buffy of that night in the house who had been on the verge of giving up and in need of some delicate TLC. This was Buffy with fire in her eyes, and that Buffy elicited an entirely different kind of response in him: one that was going to surface if he didn't stop thinking about it. Good thing he'd still gotten the gist of Angel's explanation despite his little mind wandering foray. He decided he better say something, because they were wrapping up the discussion without him. "Well, let's go and see what the watcher, the witch, and the scientist have come up with then, shall we? Hurry this thing along?"

Her brows wrinkling again and the fire in her eyes dimming a bit just like that, Buffy turned to him. "You want to get rid of it that badly?"

Oh, damn. How the hell did he always manage to bollucks up communicating what should've been a good thing? Sometimes he wondered if he'd been born with 'foot in mouth' disease. He metaphorically held his breath, because if he didn't fix this quick, the disappointed look she was giving him was gonna make him take another trip to Buffy soul land and he'd be out for the count. _Think_, he told himself. Okay, in a situation like this that required finesse… Oh who was he kidding, he didn't have finesse. Unless _maybe_ he compared himself to Anya, that is. Bluster and misdirection it was gonna have to be. That and a general hope he didn't get buggered. He took a breath and slumped his shoulders to convey his sincerity. "It's not like that. It's just that you do need your soul back, pet…" No response there. She wasn't buying it, okay, plan B. He smirked a little. "Besides, I don't think Angelcakes can take much more of Buffy-me. He fancies me enough already without the…" Spike didn't get the rest of that out, because Angel hit him in the back of the head. _Now wait a minute, how'd he get behind me?_ "Hey watch the hair! Mine actually looks decent."

Angel gave him a look that could've combusted him until the statement sunk in, then he tried to sneak in a hair-check when he thought no one would notice as they left Fred's room and boarded the elevator. _Big poof_.

Buffy gave him an annoyed look, but he could see a smirk just dying to get out. Her brand of humor had become more like his in the last couple of years. She tilted her head just so, and the smirk won and made an appearance as the elevator doors shut. "And Angel would prefer the _actual_ you, because why?"

Spike beamed at her grin. "Someone's gotta keep him on his toes; otherwise he'd get even softer around the…"

"If I were you, Spike, I wouldn't finish that statement," Angel interrupted. He turned an almost evil grin on him.

"Or what? You'll bore me to death?"

"_Or_ I'll tell Harmony that you want some help redecorating your apartment, and then I'll give her a budget." He crossed his arms smugly.

"Oh, you wouldn't."

"Try me."

Spike shot a conspiratorial look at Buffy. "And he insists his soulless incarnation is the evil one. Have you _seen_ Harmony's taste?"

A smile crossed Buffy's face, not only letting him know that she had, but that she was properly distracted and feeling better again. "I don't know. I think your room might look cute with a couple of well placed unicorn statuettes and posters. Some nice, lacy chiffon curtains."

"Bite your tongue…"

The elevator door dinged and Buffy got a pleased look Spike seldom saw as she added, "Maybe you could share lingerie."

The door opened and she hopped out as Spike made a playful growl and lunge at her and she scooted a way, snickering. _That's my girl_, he thought. He smirked at Angel again whose scowl told him that he was picking up on the rapport between he and Buffy. _Heh__ heh heh_, Spike thought, _let him brood about that for a while. He can play high and mighty 'Buffy loves me best' all he wants, but I know how to make her laugh._

Angel cleared his throat and said, "Wesley, Willow, and Fred are this way." Spike watched Angel's hand move to Buffy's arm to guide her in the correct direction: a possessive gesture. He took up a position behind them, his smirk growing. He didn't need such things to know he had a connection. He had her smile. He was smiling himself as he sauntered behind Angel and Buffy into the office, nodding a greeting to Willow and giving a small hello to Fred.

"We've made some more progress!" Willow announced happily.

"Well it's about time. We didn't think you'd ever make any progress."

Spike froze. There were few voices that could cause his mood to go from good to good and pissed and wanting to rip someone's head off as fast as that one. He clenched his fists and tried to remain calm. Fortunately for all concerned, Angel asked the question for him.

"What do you want, Lilah?"

---------

Buffy turned to stare at the well-dressed woman standing in the doorway like she owned it. The cut of her fitted suit reflected elegance as did her stylish and so-not-affordable pumps and the scarf she wore tied around her neck that looked like it probably cost more than her own entire not-so stylish, Sunnydale-bought outfit. On top of that, she had just enough curves on her statuesque body to make Buffy feel almost plain in comparison. Did every woman associated with this place have to have something men would find irresistible? And did they all have to be able to afford clothes way better than hers? Buffy immediately decided that she didn't like this woman, even if she did have excellent fashion sense. Would it be wrong to kick her ass? Likely so. _Stupid conscience_. She was sure it was okay to hate her though. She squared her shoulders and sent a look of detached indifference in the woman's direction as she waited.

Lilah took her time answering Angel's question, even though there didn't seem to be a reason to do so. She obviously knew why she was here.

_Bitch. Control freak_, Buffy thought, all the while keeping that reticent look.

Lilah finally answered, her tone somewhat blasé. "I just wanted to check on your progress. Perhaps encourage you along. You, know 'go team.'" She half raised a fist in a lame "rah, rah" gesture.

"You are not on my team, Lilah."

"Representative of Wolfram and Hart here, of which you are president of this branch, so I think that qualifies as 'same team'." Her look was not exactly smug, but close enough that Buffy felt her hackles rising. She heard a distinct growling noise which she at first thought was coming from her own throat but soon figured out was coming from Spike. There was a healthy dose of hatred in his blue eyes, and Buffy felt an almost guilt inducing feeling of "ha!" She crossed her arms smugly. Spike didn't like her either.

Angel's gaze snapped to Spike. "Cut it out, Spike. Don't encourage her."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one she likes to put through her own special brand of 'incentive.'"

"And as amusing as that always is, your ability to somehow still manage to make me look bad is definitely not worth it. The Senior Partners have little patience," Lilah said. She turned her gaze to the group researching at the table. "But I have every confidence that you three will take care of this soul problem in no time." Her gaze lingered on Wesley longer than the others, and Buffy could have sworn she caught her with a smile, a questioning look, or _something_ directed at him that hinted at a history between the woman and the former watcher who no longer looked anything like the tweeded, stuck-up she remembered. That was unexpected and somehow disturbing. Lilah was addressing Spike again, though, so Buffy had little time to consider it any longer. Lilah's voice turned patronizing. "And then, perhaps it'll be easier to get you to do what we want. No pesky soul holding you back, and…" she turned to Angel. "Despite all Angel's attempts to make me say otherwise, you're not getting it back. It is rather... gone. That was, after all, the point."

Spike stiffened, obviously very close to losing control. His body quivered and his teeth gnashed almost visibly. "Angel," he gritted out: a warning that he was gonna snap.

Angel smiled in a way that was somehow more disturbing than any of his other expressions. "Lilah, get out, or I'll let Spike explain to you just how unhappy he is that you put him in this position in the first place."

"Not that he can really do anything to me. Dead already after all," Lilah pointed out. "But…"

"Lilah," Angel ground out.

"Fine. You will let me know when the deed is done, won't you?" She sent Spike an almost leer. "I can't wait." She closed the door just as Spike lunged for her, snarling. Spike pounded his fist into the door and let out a loud "gah!" of frustration before leaning his head into the surface, all fire leaving him in a rush that left only defeat in its wake.

_So much for his good mood, and mine, too_, Buffy thought. Everyone sat silent for a moment, adjusting to this new development.

"Well now wasn't she just the ray of sunshine," Willow finally remarked sarcastically.

Buffy couldn't have agreed more, but no, she wasn't going to accept this. She remained staring at the door, but her expression turned to one of resolve. "But we're not going to let her win." She turned to the others. "Are we?" When she got no response, she turned to Spike. "Spike?"

He sighed. "Yeah, love."

"Is that… bitch any worse than Glory?"

He lifted his head. "Not really. She's a flunky of the Senior Partners is all. Thinks she's all high and mighty."

Buffy smiled at him. "Let's show her she's not." Once she got a smile from Spike, she turned to Angel.

Angel nodded. "Nothing I'd like better at the moment."

"'Bout time we put that skanky bitch in her place," Fred muttered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Spike chuckled. "Couldn't have said it better myself, pet."

Angel looked to the group at the table. "Sounds like a plan to me, Fred. Let's hear what you guys have got? We have work to do."

TBC


	7. The Horrors of a Happy Ending

**Author's Notes:** Well this is it. Despite the long wait for some, I hope you all enjoy. This one's for Ragnarok. One story note – This chapter takes into account the revelation that Wesley doesn't remember the true past before the memory wipe that changed Conner's past, even if a previous chapter might've made that plot point vague.

Summary: Previously – Buffy arrived in L.A. Spike got caught trying on lingerie. Fred got caught watching. Angel got caught thinking the lingerie should've been for Cordelia. Uh oh. An annoyed Angel threatened Spike with an ultimate horror involving Harmony. Lilah showed up and gloated – while looking stylish. Buffy vowed they were going to beat Lilah at her game.

**Chapter 7: The Horrors of a Happy Ending**

Spike listened to Fred's explanation of what the group had found so far. He had to admit that he was a bit lost. Watching his reaction, Spike doubted that Angel understood half of Fred's exposition either, yet he nodded and pretended like he did. _Wanker_. Why couldn't he just ask the girl to explain it in plain English? But no, that would mean he'd have to admit he didn't know something. Well, Spike wanted to know. It was his and Buffy's neck on the line after all. Maybe Willow could explain it instead and in less scientific terms without all the particle forces and transmogrifying matter, or was it transmogrifying forces and particle matter? Hell, he didn't have a clue, but he wasn't going to sit there and pretend he did. 'Course he wasn't gonna ask all nice either, because well, that would mean he was a goody-goody and all that rot, so he waited for one of those rare pauses in Fred's explanation. See, he wasn't entirely rude and… "Couldn't we just find a spell to bring Dead Bitch Walking back to life? Then I could torture her slowly to death until she agrees to tell us exactly what to do to fix this?" He hazarded a glance out of the corner of his eye at Buffy's face. Heh. There was a smirk. _That's my Girl_.

"Well, that would actually be more difficult because… oh." Fred paused, a blush forming on her cheeks. "You were joking."

"Don't tempt me, pet. That bint isn't exactly on my favorite persons list at present." Piece of Buffy's soul or no, he could easily imagine various messy tortures for Lilah.

"Spike, we're trying to solve your problem here. Let Fred finish," Angel said impatiently.

_Heh_, Spike thought, _nope he doesn't understand a word_. He snorted. "As if you wouldn't like to wring her neck too." He smiled at Fred. "Sorry, love. Go ahead, but could you dumb it down a bit for those of us without a science degree?"

Willow tilted her head in sympathy towards Fred and gave her an amused look. "They tend to like the 'insert sword _A_ into demon heart _B_' type explanation."

"If only it were that easy," Buffy lamented in a mumble.

Wesley nodded in confirmation when Fred looked his way. "A Slayer and Vampire thing I'm afraid. Their first comment after all your hard research is usually 'just tell me how to kill it.'"

Fred pushed her glasses up onto her nose and wrinkled her lip in an adorable expression of concern. "I'm not sure I can do that with this theory."

"That's okay. I think I can," Willow offered. She turned to face Buffy and Spike. "We're going to need a conduit, because the piece of soul is in a being and won't just 'hop' out and into another. And we'll have to recreate some of the circumstances of the first time, so basically we'll need ugly necklace _A_ and two bodies Buffy _B_ and Spike _C_, and…

"No, no, no," Spike objected. "I'm not wearing that Liz Taylor collection nightmare again. Was bad enough the first time." He crossed his arms indignantly.

"And if you remember," Buffy added. "Big boom. Sunnydale go bye bye in a giant crater last time he wore that thing. L.A. is kinda populated. Big boom would mean lots of dead people."

Willow scrunched her face up. "I didn't say it was necessarily going to be easy…"

"And I don't have an entire soul. Isn't that necessary to get it started?" Spike asked.

"Well hopefully the piece will do it," Fred said. "And theoretically that should hopefully mean you won't burn up, well too much, and should mean a smaller boom," she added hopefully.

"Smaller boom could still take out a bunch of people," Buffy said grimly. "You didn't see how big this crater was."

Willow held up her hand. "I think we can factor that in and compensate for it if we're careful. But we still need the necklace. We're sure of that much."

Spike growled a bit.

Willow gave him a smirk. "Well, bright side: maybe you can still hurt Lilah in the name of getting the necklace back." She nodded and smiled, trying to sell it.

He pouted. "You lot just want to see me humiliated by having to wear that thing again."

Wesley gave him a wry smile. "Well, you can't say that in my case, Spike. For me it will actually be the first time to see you humiliated by having to wear it."

"Kinda sad I missed it myself," Angel added with his own smirk.

"Hardy har har. When this is over, I'm biting you two first." He'd meant it as a joke, but of course in light of what would happen, it actually wasn't, and his face fell as soon as he saw Willow's reaction. "Didn't mean that like it sounded," he mumbled.

"Spike," Buffy said in that voice that drew his attention to her without fail: a good thing, because his thought process was leading down blackout lane. She continued quickly, as if she had come to the same conclusion. "I know that you're worried, and I know what could happen, but we're going to try to find a way out of this for you."

He shook his head, knowing how hard it would be, remembering a night not so long ago when he'd thought that his chip no longer worked. It hadn't taken much before he tried to return to his old ways. How long before the memory of his soul, of Buffy's soul, wore off?

"Spike!" she repeated rather forcefully, causing his gaze to snap back to hers. "You remember what I said that night in my basement just before The Bringers took you?" He could only nod mutely, the movement barely noticeable. She moved closer to him, holding his gaze, and his focus narrowed to just her as she continued more softly. "I meant it, and I still do. You can do this. I believe in you."

His lips twisted as he tried to keep his emotions in check. How could he let her down? But he couldn't see how he could stop it. Suddenly she was shaking him and saying "Don't you dare! I'll hit you if I have to." Oh right. He probably came close to blacking out again.

"I'm okay," he assured her. And for the moment he was. If Buffy was on his side, then that was all he needed as far as he was concerned. He'd done more with far less.

"Good, because I'm not sure I want to see another one of your interpretations of me. It's rather scary actually." She smiled a bit.

"Hey, it's your soul, Slayer."

Wesley cleared his throat. "And let's see if we can't put it back where it belongs without destroying half of L.A., shall we? Before things get any more complicated."

"But from what Willow says, we need the necklace. Where is it?" Buffy asked.

"That's a good question," Wesley said.

"Does this mean I still get to torture Lilah?" Spike asked.

"I'll take care of it," Wesley said. His expression was grim, but confident. He turned to Spike. "I'll make sure you get your amulet."

---------

Wesley didn't know exactly what it was, but being around Lilah caused him to have a wash of emotions he couldn't quite place. Something was very wrong there, almost as if because she was dead, her existence wouldn't quite mesh with his reality. Other times it seemed even more than that, like he was missing something very important. The feeling was disconcerting to say the least.

He couldn't contemplate all that right now, though. He had to think up a strategy, think of how to get Lilah to hand over the amulet so they could transfer Buffy's piece of soul back into her body. Lilah was wily and smart. She would likely see through most tricks he could use to get her to slip up and reveal the amulet's location. She was proud of her abilities, but likely flattery wouldn't work as a strategy either. Guilt was definitely out. He could try to threaten her, but that probably wouldn't have much impact either. Presumably she'd been in a hell dimension before being brought back here. Any torture he could devise or threaten her with wouldn't be able to compete with that. Could he seduce her for it? Good Lord, what had made him consider _that_ as a strategy?

No time now. He was just going to have to go in there, call for her, and wait for his intuition to kick in and tell him what to do. He'd be tested, but he was certain that he could do this. At the last moment, his watcher instincts would kick in, and he'd know just what to do. Squaring his shoulders as he reached the door to his office, he tugged on his shirt, straightening it. He took a deep breath and plunged in, his brain primed and ready to do mental battle, his body strong and prepared to take the challenge, his confidence overflowing… his face contorting in confusion as Lilah swiveled around in his desk chair and threw the ugly necklace at him.

"Here's the amulet. Now would you guys hurry this up already. How long do I have to wait until I get my soulless vampire? Geesh," she commented as she propped her feet up on his desk.

Wesley somehow managed to catch the amulet as it bounced off his chest. "Er, thank you?" He hoped he didn't look anywhere near as foolish as he felt. "But don't touch anything," he added sternly, trying to get some dignity back by pretending that she'd actually listen to him. As he pocketed the necklace and turned to leave, Wesley wondered how long he could safely stall before returning to the gang. How long should it have taken to talk an evil woman out of an amulet anyway? Leaving his office behind and heading for the break room, he supposed maybe the time it took to have a cup of tea and a pastry should probably be sufficient.

---------

Buffy was patrolling with herself. Okay not really with herself, but with Spike who was doing a pretty good imitation of her… self. After spending the past couple of days at Wolfram & Hart waiting for Willow, Fred, and Wesley to get the potential kinks out of the soul-returning process, she was beginning to see why Angel would get creeped out by Buffy-Spike. _She_ was getting creeped out by Buffy-Spike. It was more than weird. At present he was gloating as he fought a vampire, but not in his usual Spike way.

"You really shouldn't try to fight me on a full stomach, you know," he said in what she now thought of as his "Buffy-voice" as he delivered a flying kick that sent the vamp stumbling back a few steps. He positioned the stake as the vamp lunged forward again. "You might get heart burn," he finished as he plunged the stake into the vampire's heart. "Get it, heart burn?"

Buffy groaned, imagining her own face must reflect the pained look of the vamp just before it poofed. And she thought the lingerie was bad. _Okay, note to self: do not pun while staking vamps anymore. Well, unless it's a really good one_, she conceded in her head. She watched as Spike came bouncing back to her, and yes, he was actually bouncing: not a swagger or a strut, but an honest to goodness, almost skipping in glee bounce. _I do not look like that_, she assured herself in her head. _Spike is doing some messed up, evil demon interpretation of me. That has to be it_.

"That's two," he announced happily.

"Yes, um, good job," she encouraged.

He was all jazzed up and hyper, not unlike herself in times past on some patrols, but he also looked slightly confused. From what she knew of Spike, and if her own experience was any indication, he was also potentially… well a little turned on, but considering he was in Buffy-mode… That likely explained the look of confusion. He shook his head as if trying to clear it and looked around restlessly. "You okay?" he asked her, probably just for something to say, or maybe because she likely had a strange expression on her face.

"Um, fine."

"Don't worry, there'll be more. Lots of vamps tonight. You'll get a turn."

And then, magically, there was another. "Thank, God," she muttered before looking at him. "Tag team this time?"

"Sure."

They went at it. Good thing it wasn't a very smart vamp, because Buffy saw the shift about half-way through the brawl. Strange, because that had never happened before. All of a sudden Spike was confused, and Buffy almost had a heart attack as the vamp grabbed him in that state and prepared to bash his head into the nearest tombstone. She staked it just in time. Spike fell to the ground amidst a cloud of ashes.

"Bloody hell," he said, looking around and trying to get his bearings. "Thanks," he told her.

"Yeah, well, don't scare me like that." She reached down to help him up.

"I don't usually snap out of it in the middle like that," he said with some concern as he clasped her hand, and she helped pull him up.

"That's enough patrolling for tonight, I think."

He smirked at her. "I don't know. I could go a little longer. It's been a while. Just you and me, killing the nasties."

_Yeah_, Buffy thought. _And I also remember what usually came after killing the nasties_. There had been no innuendo though, so that boded well, because there was hardly ever a lack of innuendo in the past. She saw his hopeful look and caved. "Okay, maybe one more, then we better check on the gang's progress."

"Okay," he conceded. "Let's go find a good one." He waited for her to take the lead, causing her a rush of bittersweet nostalgia. For not the first time in the past few days, she worried about what was to come when it was time for the spell.

---------

Angel was trying to enjoy a little quiet time while Buffy took Spike on patrol, but all he ended up doing was thinking about the progress they'd made so far on trying to return Buffy's piece of soul. They'd accounted for all they could, his gang had assured him, but Angel knew it wasn't enough. Yes, they thought they'd be able to keep L.A. from experiencing a rather large sink hole, but they hadn't been able to come up with any way to restore Spike's soul to him once Buffy's piece was returned. They didn't even know if it was still available. Lilah kept insisting it was gone, no matter how he'd threatened her.

In the past hour of contemplation - and no, he was not brooding, he told himself - Angel had come up with his own idea. It was risky and stupid, but he also knew that he had to do it. His reasoning was fairly simple. Despite the potential consequences, if he didn't try it, he'd have yet one more thing to feel guilty about. He'd likely be able to stake Spike if need be, or at least he thought he could, but he'd hate to see what it would do to Buffy if he did. Letting a soulless Spike go wasn't something he could do either. They'd discussed all these things at their last group meeting.

As they'd left it, the current plan was to imprison Spike until they could find a way to get him a soul, or even, if possible, another chip. Spike hadn't been too happy about the idea of a chip again, but agreed he'd do it as long as "Captain Cardboard" had nothing to do with the implantation and if there was no other alternative. On the whole though, Spike had been pretty miserable about his situation and no one had been surprised when he reverted once again to Buffy-mode and they'd sent him off to eat ice cream in the break room. No one seemed to be surprised, either, when Buffy pouted and obviously wished that she could be eating ice cream, too, but stubbornly refused to admit it.

Once Spike had gone, things had taken a turn for the worse, because that's when the more drastic measures that no one wanted to mention in front of him had inevitably surfaced. Angel hadn't been at all surprised that Gunn and Wesley had been the ones on the side for staking him, while Buffy and Fred hadn't wanted to consider that option. As for himself, Angel had been torn between not hurting Buffy and wondering if it would be more humane to stake Spike rather than keep him locked up. Being imprisoned was not a happy state for a vampire. That was likely where the seeds for his present idea had started to take root. Now it was a full-fledged, albeit totally insane, plan.

No sense stalling. It was time to go talk to Willow, Wesley, and Fred to see if they could actually do it. Part of him almost hoped that they couldn't.

---------

"You do realize that this is insane, right?" Wesley asked Angel.

"No, no we can do this," Willow insisted. "I can make it work." She had that look in her eyes, like a pit bull that'd gotten hold of a meat bone and refused to let go.

"And if we don't?" Wesley countered. "If something goes terribly wrong and we end up with Angelus running around again?" He had on his stubborn face, the one he usually wore when he was determined to play devil's advocate.

"Well, we already know that I can fix that. No problem." Willow waved her hand in dismissal.

"The problem is stopping it in time. It can't be too much and it can't be too little," Fred added.

"But what if Spike continues to have the same problems he's having now?" Wesley asked, still sticking to his role.

Willow frowned. "I might be able to fix that part, make it more… meshable."

Fred grinned at Willow. "I'm not sure that's a real word."

Willow pouted back with mock affront. "Well it should be."

Leaning back in his chair, Wesley crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, mangling of the English language aside, I'm not sure I like the risk. Maybe we should just…"

"No," Willow said. "I know you don't know him like we do, but he really has changed, and okay there was much messing up, but then he got his soul, and he was still Spike but different. Well not including the crazy part, because that did finally go away. And if it weren't for him… well besides bringing Buffy back to us when things got rough, he did burn up to save us all and everything…"

"I get it," Wesley interrupted her. "But that doesn't change the fact that he won't have a soul when this is done, and he won't have a chip either. He won't be the Spike you know anymore. The Senior Partners are going to want to use him for evil, so even if we do manage to keep him locked away with powerful spells protecting his prison, who's to say they won't eventually figure out a way to free him."

Everyone was quiet for a moment while Wesley's words hit home. That was one aspect they hadn't really gotten to in their last discussion, and unfortunately it was very true. Lilah might have failed so far, but she was tenacious, and she had little to lose.

Angel raised his head. "I think that makes even more of an argument for my plan. If it works, he'll be much less attractive to the Senior Partners. If we dust him, yes, he'll be gone, but that doesn't mean they won't try to bring him back." Angel knew they likely wouldn't, but…

"They'd probably rather resurrect a more cooperative subject," Wesley pointed out. Sometimes Angel wished he wasn't so insightful.

"I want to try this," Angel finally stated. He stared the group down, waiting to see if there were any more objections.

Wesley raised his chin, but took a short breath through his nose and nodded. "Okay. We'll make precautions in case things go wrong." He titled his head. "Besides, we can always stake Spike later if it doesn't work."

Angel couldn't help the quirk that came to his lips. Wesley would back down momentarily and would do as he asked, but that didn't mean he would entirely give up on his ideas. Maybe that's why, even despite the betrayal Wesley no longer remembered, Angel trusted him to do what was necessary. "Yes, I guess we can." He shifted his gaze to include everyone again. "Okay, guys, get to work, and not a word of this to Spike," he added in warning.

"Why not?" Fred asked.

"Do you want to be the one to try to explain this to him and get him to agree?"

Fred opened her mouth to answer, but closed it when Willow put a hand on her shoulder. Willow shook her head and gave a small eye roll as she explained, "trust me. You don't."

Tuning out the conversation of the group going back to work, Angel let his previous thoughts return to him. This could potentially be dangerous. It could end in disaster. But it was also the right thing to do. Angel let that thought bolster him as he squared his shoulders and closed the door behind him.

---------

Spike was nervous. Most people probably wouldn't be able to tell, but Buffy could see it. He fidgeted casually with his lighter and moved just a little too exaggeratedly, trying to look nonchalant. When he looked at her though, he let his guard slip a bit, his mouth turning and his eyes showing a flash of concern. "Is it time to get this show on the road yet?" he asked for about the third time.

"Almost," Willow answered him, just as she had the last two times. "I've got to get the wards just right."

"That and about a million other things we have to keep track of to make sure L.A. doesn't have an earthquake, Spike doesn't incinerate, and Angel doesn't…" Fred cut off suddenly, but soon continued with, "…have a big mess to clean up."

Buffy knew that their preparation was very complicated. They were trying to do something to the amulet. She kind of missed the technicalities of that part, but the basic idea was that they were trying to keep the conduit properties working while buffering the stuff that used up the soul and made Spike burn up from the inside and go poof. The burning up part likely wouldn't be totally blocked, but hopefully there wouldn't be a poof this time. That was likely part of Spike's concern; burning up from the inside couldn't be very comfortable. But she also knew there was more. Stopping him from tossing his lighter again, Buffy put her hand on his. "It's okay, Spike." He raised his eyebrows at her, his meaning clear. She smiled wryly. "Okay no, it isn't, but we'll get through."

He nodded solemnly with an expression that hinted at deep thought. "Pain that it is, I think I'm gonna miss it. Your soul," he added with an expression she couldn't quite read. "I wish I could've remembered it more."

"Even the wearing lingerie part?"

"Well, okay, maybe not that part specifically, but the rest. It would've been nice."

She wrinkled her forehead. "Nice?"

"Yeah." He shrugged a little and looked at her from beneath his lashes. "Feeling part of you in here." He thumped his chest lightly.

Her mouth opened a little despite herself. God, he could be such a sap. Sometimes she couldn't reconcile this aspect of him with the other, the one she knew was a brutal killer. "_You've never met the real me_," he'd told her once. She wasn't sure about that. She'd met his predecessor, but she also knew Angelus wasn't capable of the same emotion she was seeing here. "Shh," she told him. "We're going to find a way out for you. I won't leave you locked up forever, I promise."

Her words making them remember it, they both glanced at the large taser gun on one of the small tables. Once the transfer took place, he'd be tasered into submission if necessary.

"You won't need that," he said. "I'll go willingly. It'll still be me." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

"I know." She squeezed his hand and planted a small peck on his lips. As she drew back, the look on his face mirrored the last time she'd given him such a kiss, except without all the bruises. He hadn't had a soul then, yet she'd meant it just the same.

When she looked up, Angel was glowering at them. _Oh great, here comes the show of testosterone_. Looking at Spike's smirk, she decided she was going to nip this in the bud right now. She put her hand on Angel's arm. "Angel, is the locked room ready, and is it safe?"

Angel tore his glaring eyes away from Spike and looked at her. "Yes." He turned away a bit as he said it, and Buffy had the feeling he was being a little evasive.

She tightened her grip on his arm. "You're not planning on doing anything like staking him are you?"

"No," he assured her, this time keeping eye contact.

"Good."

"I think we're ready," Fred announced from over near the circle they'd drawn on the floor, and Buffy was glad for the distraction if not for what it meant would soon be happening.

"'Bout time," Spike grumbled. "Let's do this then."

Spike was trying to stay calm, but that was becoming difficult to do with the magic energy growing around him. He supposed a little nervous energy had its advantages though. The repetitive, rhythmic chanting might've put him to sleep otherwise. Buffy stood in front of him within the protective circle, smiling at him. He took a quick breath and closed his eyes as he felt the first stinging sensations coming from the ugly amulet he wore around his neck.

"Spike?"

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. "This is it."

Buffy opened her palm, spreading her fingers and he folded his hand into it. She squeezed it a little tight, but he didn't mind at all. He grunted a little as his body began to sting and burn. "How much longer?"

"Shouldn't be too long."

It was Angel that answered, because everyone else was busy with various spell incantations, so Spike wasn't sure how reliable the answer was. He gritted his teeth behind his smile just in case he had to endure for a while. "Buffy," he managed to get out.

"I've got you."

The flames came then, surrounding their hands and surprising Fred, who took in a quick breath. "This is it, Angel," she said. Spike had only a moment to wonder why Fred was saying this before he felt something deep within him and knew Buffy's piece of soul was leaving him. Buffy seemed to feel it, too, because she let out a little gasp.

"Now, Angel," Fred said.

Then several things happened at once. Willow shouted a command, breaking the barrier of the circle, Wesley picked up the taser gun, pointing it in their direction, and Angel crossed the place where the barrier had been just a second before, taking Buffy from his grasp.

"What?" Buffy asked

"You don't have to do that," Spike objected, holding his hands up in Wesley's direction. "I'll go willingly."

"It's not for you," Angel said as he entered the circle, replacing Buffy. Another shouted command from Willow brought the energy back up around the circle, catching them inside. Then Angel was grabbing his hand.

"What're you doing?" he asked, trying to get his hand out of Angel's grasp. Then the answer hit him harder than the return of the burning in his chest. "Bloody hell!" His eyes widened comically, and he renewed his efforts to retrieve his hand. "There's no bleeding way, you overgrown do-gooder wanna be. I'm not gonna have you in here."

Angel just smirked at him, not letting go. "Sorry, Spike. It's the only answer for now."

Angel's grip was too strong, and the burning inside his body made him too weak to break the connection. He only had time to look at the smirking Angel in horror. Then it was too late, as the flames came up again, this time engulfing his and Angel's hands, and Spike knew that one of his worst nightmares was about to become reality. He really was gonna be like his big poof of a grandsire. He panted a bit as Willow barked out the command to bring down the barrier again, and Wesley hauled Angel out of his grasp. Smoking slightly, he stumbled backwards, and Buffy steadied him, keeping him from falling completely.

He looked at Willow and Fred, his mouth agape. Wesley was busy with a now tasered Angel. "You all knew, didn't you?"

Fred titled her head and scrunched her mouth apologetically. "Well, they told me not to say anything, cuz you might be…"

"Horrified?" Spike finished for her. "Did you know about this?" he asked Buffy.

Buffy looked startled. "Me? Nooo. I know what you would've thought of this."

Spike nodded at her, though he had the sneaking suspicion that she was trying desperately not to smile. "I need to sit down," he moaned. He found the nearest chair and sunk onto it before looking pitifully at Willow. "You couldn't have gotten me another chip instead?"

"It might not be that bad," Fred said. "Willow tweaked the spell a bit so the piece would mesh better. You might not show any Angel behavior at all." Willow nodded emphatically in agreement.

"Might not?" Spike asked.

"Probably not." Ignoring his grumbled reply, she turned to Wesley. "How's Angel?"

"He's subdued for now. We'll get him chained up until we can be positive he's still got some of his soul in there, but I'm fairly certain we stopped the process in time." He looked at Buffy. "Would you mind helping me with him?"

Spike felt a twinge of emotion when Buffy turned to him and asked, "You going to be okay for a moment?" She was making sure before she went to help Angel.

"Go ahead. Chain him up really tight for me okay, pet?"

Buffy stifled a smile. "Now be nice. You two do have a bond now." Spike growled at her playfully, well mostly anyway, as she went to help Wesley.

---------

Buffy and Willow had waited another day to make sure that he and Spike were okay, but now Angel had to watch her leave again. The worst part was knowing that Spike would gladly go with her if he could and that Buffy similarly wished the same thing. The two of them were saying goodbye now. And they were kissing. Okay he hadn't expected that, but it was just a small kiss, so… Okay that was enough now. Then they had their heads together, and Angel wished he knew what they were saying. Strike that; no he didn't. It looked totally mushy, and knowing Spike it likely was. Angel grumbled to himself until Buffy finally came over to see him.

"Be nice to him," Buffy told him as she embraced him.

"You're asking a lot there, you know." He returned the hug, enjoying the feel of his arms being around her.

She gave him a sheepish look. "I know he can be a pain in the ass, but he really is trying."

"Trying to be a pain in the ass?" he joked.

Buffy snorted a small laugh. "No, I think he comes by that part naturally. Promise me you'll try."

"I'll try, but only for you."

She nodded. "Thank you. For everything." Then she gave him a small kiss and pulled away. "Take care of yourself, Angel." He could only nod and watch her go over to wait by her luggage.

Willow was saying goodbye to Fred and Wesley. "Let me know if you find out anything more about Spike's soul. I'm really good at putting souls back in vamps," she said with a smile.

"We'll let you know if we find anything," Wesley promised.

"Have a safe trip," Fred added. "And don't forget to e-mail."

Then the two of them were heading for the elevators with their luggage. They waved as the doors closed. He sighed. "Well, I guess it's back to work."

Spike sauntered up. "Guess so."

Angel wondered what he was going to do with himself now that everything was back to normal. Then he wished he hadn't as the sound of Harmony's voice came from a little way across the lobby. "Angel, Mr. Brighton is here. I told him to wait in your office."

---------

_So far, so good_, Spike thought. It seemed Willow had been a miracle worker in the magic department. He hadn't had any blackouts in the past couple of weeks, and his shiny new piece of soul was firmly in place. He tried not to think too much about where it came from. Lilah still showed up from time to time, but the visits were much less frequent. Angel actually gave him helpful things to do. And Fred and Wesley still looked into the possibility of retrieving his own soul every now and then. Now, if he could only figure out how to break the Senior Partners hold on him, he might eventually be able to leave this place and go join Buffy wherever she ended up. He wondered how Dawn was doing. He bet that she was getting all tall and grown up by now.

He stretched as he waited in the elevator then picked up his briefcase. Might as well look professional. It didn't matter that there was only a couple token papers, a nice set of pens, and a good British beer in there. He looked the part anyway. Exiting the elevator, he wondered what the meeting was going to be about today but mostly hoped it would be a short one. He never had been good at sitting still and listening to other people talk. How he'd managed to hang out at the few Scooby meetings he had attended, he'd never know. As he came through the door, he noticed almost everyone was there, except for Lorne, but the green demon actually hadn't been hanging around the building much lately anyway.

"Afternoon," he said as he walked into the small conference room.

They were all staring at him. Fred had actually done a double take.

"What? I can't be late."

"No, man, you're not late. It's just..." Gunn snickered a little. "Your hair, dude." He turned to Fred. "I thought you told me you guys did some mojo to fix that."

Fred looked apologetic around the smile she was trying hard not to show. "I thought we did."

Wesley, too, was smiling. "Evidently it didn't entirely work."

"What?" Angel asked, but after a moment he scrunched his face up. "Does mine really look like that?"

Spike felt panic rising in him. What were they talking about? "What's wrong with my…" He dropped his briefcase and reached his hand up to gingerly touch his hair. The side of his head seemed fine. The hair wasn't as flat as he usually liked it, but… With growing horror he moved his hand to touch the front of his head. His hand stopped at least an inch higher than he expected, encountering bangs that were sticking straight up.

"Oh, bloody hell."

The End


End file.
